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B.CLARKE  Z(p 
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STUDIES 


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English  and  American 
LITERATURE, 

FROM  CHAUCER  TO  THE  PRESENT  TIME; 

WITH 

STANDARD  SELECTIONS  FROM  REPRESENTATIVE  WRITERS 
FOR  CRITICAL  STUDY  AND  ANALYSIS. 


DESIGNED  FOR  USE  IN  HIGH  SCHOOLS,  ACADEMIES,  SEMINARIES, 
NORMAL    SCHOOLS,  AND    BY  PRIVATE   STUDENTS. 


BY 

ALBERT  N.  RAUB,   Ph.D., 

Ex -PRKSinENT  OF  Delaware  College,  AND  Author  OK  "Lessons  in  English, 

"I'KACTICAL    EN(iLISlI    GUAMMAK,"   "PRACTICAL    RHETORIC,"    "METHODS 

OF  Teaching,"  "School  Manaoement,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA : 

R  A  IT  B    &     CO 


Copyright, 

ALBERT  N.   RAUB,  PH.  D, 

1882. 


Copyright,  1908. 


PREFACE. 


This  book  has  been  written  because  there  seems  to 
be  a  necessity  for  a  work  of  the  kind  in  order  to  teach 
literature  successfully. 

Too  often  the  drill  in  rhetoric  and  grammar  which 
our  young  men  and  women  receive  in  schools  ends  with 
the  mere  technical  drill,  without  any  application  of  the 
principles  of  either  science  to  the  critical  analysis  and 
study  of  our  literature.  The  study  of  literature  as  pur- 
sued in  the  usual  way  is  the  study  of  special  biography, 
and  in  no  way  helps  the  young  student  either  to  appre- 
ciate the  classics  of  our  language  or  to  prepare  himself 
for  authorship. 

The  object  of  this  book  is  to  present  not  only  a  brief 
biographical  sketch  of  the  representative  writers,  but 
also  a  criticism  of  their  work,  and,  following  this,  a 
masterpiece  selected  from  each  author's  writings,  with 
such  explanatory  notes  appended  as  seem  necessary, 
and  such  questions  as  will  lead  the  pupil  to  study  close- 
ly and  critically  not  only  the  beauties,  but  also  the  de- 
fects, of  his  language,  style,  and  thought.  The  teacher 
will  of  course  add  many  questions  which  want  of  space 
prevents  the  autlior  from  inserting.  It  is  thought  that 
a  sufficient  number  of  questions,  however,  have  been 
given  to  induce  the  pupil  to  study  each  selection  with 
care.  Experience  in  the  class-room  sustains  the  author 
of  this  work  in  saying  that  pupils  pursue  the  study  of 


i  PREFACE. 

literature  and  classics  by  this  method  with  great  eager- 
ness and  delight. 

Twenty-seven  standard  writers  have  been  selected  to 
represent  the  literature  of  Great  Britain,  and  twenty- 
three  that  of  America.  The  author  does  not  claim 
that  the  list  is  complete:  many  may  differ  with  liim 
also  in  the  choice  of  selections  to  be  studied ;  but  tlie 
field  from  which  to  glean  is  so  extended  that  it  would 
be  absurd  for  any  one  to  claim  that  he  alone  has  made 
the  best  choice.  To  the  fifty  standard  writers  have 
been  added  the  chief  contemporaries  of  each  Age, 
many  of  whom  might  properly  be  included  among 
the  representative  writers  did  not  the  limited  size  of 
the  book  prevent. 

The  book  does  not  aim  to  be  a  complete  history  of 
English  Literature:  it  seeks,  rather,  to  combine  the 
study  of  English  Classics  with  the  study  of  the  history 
of  English  Literature,  and  thus  awaken  such  an  inter- 
est as  will  lead  the  student  not  only  to  read  biography, 
but  also  to  seek  culture  through  the  study  of  master- 
pieces of  English  style  and  thouglit. 

The  author  desires  to  express  his  acknowledgment  to 
various  American  publishing-houses  for  permission  to 
make  selections  from  their  co]>yright  editions  of  Amer- 
ican authors;  also  to  Miss  Harriet  ii. Swineford,  Teacher 
of  English  Literature,  English  Grammar,  and  Rhetoric 
in  the  Central  State  Normal  School  at  Lock  Haven, 
Pennsylvania,  whose  untiring  industry  and  excellent 
literary  taste  have  greatly  aided  him  in  the  productioD 

Df  this  book. 

ALBEKT   N.  RAUB. 
Lock  Haven,  Pa.,  ) 
AprU  5,  1882.        ) 


CONTENTS. 


TABU 

FiGUBKS  OF  Speech 9 

Origin  of  the  English  Langxjagb 14 

ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

I.  THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCEE 19 

1.  Geoffeey  Chauceb        19 

Sketch  of  a  Poor  Parson         23 

Contemporaneous  Writers  of  the  Age  of  Chaucer 25 

n.  THE  ELIZABETHAN  AGE 26 

2.  Edmund  Spen8eb 28 

The  Bower  of  Bliss       31 

3.  William  Shakespeake 34 

Tnal-Scene  from  The  Merchant  of  Venice 36 

4.  Francis  Bacon 47 

Essay  on  Friendship 49 

Contemporaneous  Writers  of  the  Elizabethan  Age 58 

III.  THE  AGE  OF  MILTON        60 

5.  John  Milton         60 

Lycidas 63 

Contemporaneous  Writers  of  the  Age  of  Milton 74 

IV.  AGE  OF  THE  EESTORATION 76 

6.  John  Dryden       76 

Alexander's  Feast          79 

CmUemporaneous  Writers  of  the  Age  of  the  Restoration 87 

V.  AGE  OF  QUEEN  ANNE       88 

7  Joseph  Addison gg 

Essay  on  Cheerfulness 91 

The  Heavens  Declare  the  Glory  of  God 97 

5 


6  CONTENTS. 

PAea 

R  Alkxankeb  Popk 98 

Essay  on  Man,  Epistio  1 100 

Contemporaneotis  Writers  of  the  Age  of  Queen  Anne 105 

VI.  THE  AGE  OF  JOHNSON          107 

9.  Thomas  Gray          107 

Elegy  Written  in  a  (Country  Churchyard     . .        . .  110 

10.  Samuel  Johnson ri? 

The  Voyage  of  Life         120 

11.  Olivee  Goldsmith 128 

The  Deserted  Village 130 

12.  William  Cowpeb 147 

Lines  on  the  Eeceipt  of  my  Mother's  Picture       . .  149 

13.  EoBEET  Burns          156 

The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night 159 

Contemporaneous  Writers  of  the  Age  of  Johnson 169 

Vn.  THE  AGE  OF  SCOTT 172 

14-  LoKD  Byron 172 

Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage 176 

Mont  Blanc 180 

15.  Sir  Walter  Scott 181 

Lochinvar 184 

The  I^y  of  the  Last  Minstrel 187 

Patriotism 188 

16.  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge 189 

Hymn  before  Sunrise  in  the  Vale  of  Chamouni     .  .  191 

17.  Thomas  Moore        196 

The  Turf  shall  be  my  Fragrant  Shrine        . .        .  .  198 

Those  Evening  Bells        .199 

The  Glory  of  God  in  Creation 200 

18.  William  Wordsworth 201 

The  Kitten  and  the  Falling  Leaves 204 

CtnUmporaneoria  Writers  of  the  Age  of  Scott       209 

Vni.  THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 214 

19.  Alfred  Tennyson 215 

The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade 217 

The  Charge  of  the  Heavy  Brigade 220 

20.  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning         223 

Cowper's  Grave 225 

The  Sleep 228 


CONTENTS.  7 

PAOS 

2L  Jean  Ingelow           229 

The  Middle  Watch             230 

Work 234 

22.  Thomab  Babinoton  Macaulat 235 

The  Paritans 237 

S3.  Chablks  Dickbns 243 

The  Last  Hours  of  Little  Paul  Dombey         . .        . .  246 

24.  William  Makepeace  Thackeray       252 

George  III 254 

25.  Qeoege  Eliot 262 

Saint  Theresa           264 

26.  Thomas  Caelyle 267 

Essay  on  Bums        270 

27.  James  Anthony  Fboude 278 

The  Instructiveness  of  Eoman  History         . ,        . .  279 

Contempmraneotis  Writers  of  the  Victorian  Age 285 


AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

I.  THE  COLONIAL  PEEIOD  298 

1.  Jonathan  Edwabds 298 

Meaning  of  the  Phrase  "  Moral  Inability  "     . .        .  .  300 

Contemporaneous  Writers  of  the  Colonial  Period 301 

II.  THE  EEVOLUTIONABT  PEEIOD       302 

2.  Joseph  Eodman  Dbake       302 

The  American  Flag 304 

3.  Fitz-Geeene  Halleck        307 

Marco  Bozzaris         .        . .  308 

Oontenporaneous  Writers  of  the  Revolutionary  Period    . .        . .        . .  313 

ni.  THE  NATIONAL  PEEIOD  316 

4.  William  Cullen  Beyant 317 

Thanatopsis 319 

B.  Heney  Wadswoeth  Longfellow        324 

The  Launch  of  the  Ship 328 

8.  John  Q.  Whittieb .        . .  332 

The  Barefoot  Boy 333 


8  CONTENTS. 

tkam 

7  Olivee  Wendell  Holmes 338 

The  Chambered  Nautilus 340 

The  Last  Leaf 342 

a  Geoege  Banceoft         843 

The  Hudson  Eiver        346 

8  William  H.  Peescott 351 

Queen  Isabella 353 

10.  John  Lotheop  Motley          857 

William  of  Orange       358 

11.  William  Elleey  Channing 368 

The  Sense  of  Beauty 368 

12.  Ralph  Waldo  Emeeson         370 

Essay  on  Goethe            372 

Extract 377 

13.  James  Eussell  Lowell         378 

The  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal 380 

Extract 384 

14.  Washington  Ieving 385 

Ichabod  Crane's  Eide 389 

15.  James  Fenimoee  Coopee       397 

The  Wreck  of  the  Ariel         399 

16.  Nathaniel  Hawthoenb        406 

The  Old  Manse 408 

17.  Geoege  William  Cuetis       414 

Aspirations  of  Youth 415 

18.  N.  P.  Willis         418 

The  Belfry  Pigeon        420 

19.  Bayabd  Tayloe 422 

Kilinmndjaro 424 

20.  J.  G.  Holland 427 

The  Eeading  of  PeriodicaJfl 428 

21.  Donald  G.  Mitchell 433 

First  Ambition 434 

Extract 438 

22  Daniel  Webstee           439 

Importance  of  the  Union       .        . .  441 

23  Edward  Everett          443 

The  Memory  of  our  Honored  Dead            445 

Cmftempvraneoua  Writers  of  the  National  Period 449 


STUDIES 

IN 

ENGLISH  AND  AMERICAN 
LITERATURE. 


DEFIXITIOlSrS. 


FIGURES  OF  SPEECH. 

A  figure  of  speech  is  a  deviation  from  the  literal 
form  of  expression. 

Figures  bear  the  same  relation  to  discourse  that  em- 
bellishments bear  to  architecture. 

The  figures  of  speech  which  are  most  frequently  em- 
ployed may  be  divided  into  two  classes : 

1,  Grammatical  Figures; 

2.  Rhetorical  Figures. 

I.  GRAMMATICAL  FIGURES. 

The  chief  grammatical  figures  are  Ellipsis,  Enallage, 
and  Pleonasm. 

1 ,  Ellipsis  is  the  omission  of  such  letters  or  words  aa 
tre  necessary  to  complete  the  sense  and  construction. 
The  ellipsis  of  letters  may  be  as  follows : 
o.  Aphaeresis,  or  the  omission  of  a  letter  or  letters  from 
the  beginning  of  a  word ;  as,  'gem  for  begcn. 


10  DEFINITIONS. 

b.  Syncope,  or  tbe  omission  of  a  letter  or  letters  from  the 

middle  of  a  word  ;  as,  lov'd  for  loved. 
e.  Apocope,  or  the  omission  of  a  letter  or  letters  from  the 

end  of  a  word ;  as,  tho'  for  though. 

Tjie  second  variety  of  ellipsis  is  that  of  words,  par- 
tic-jlarly  connectives. 

a  The  omission  of  the  relative  pronoun ;  as,  This  it  the 
letter  I  wrote,  for  This  is  the  letter  which  I  wrote. 

b.  The  omission  of  the  conjunction  ;  as,  Me  came,  saw,  con' 
quered,  for  He  came,  and  saw,  and  conquered. 

The  third  variety  of  ellipsis  is  that  of  an  entire  clause ; 
as,  Astonishing  I  for  This  is  astonishing. 

2.  Enallag-e  signifies  a  change  of  words. 

The  two  most  common  forms  of  enallage  are  the  fol- 
lowing : 

a.  The  use  of  one  part  of  speech  for  another;  as,  The  winds 

blow  soft  o'er  C'ei/lofi's  isle. 

b.  The  use  of  one  case  for  another ;  as,  A  President  than 

whom  nojie  was  more  beloved. 

3.  Pleonasm  consists  in  the  use  of  more  words  than 
are  necessary ;  as,  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear. 

II.  KHETORICAL  FIGURES. 
The  chief  rhetorical  figures  are  the  following : 

1.  Simile;  5.  Metonymy;  9.  Hyperbole; 

2.  Metaphor;     6.  Synecdoche;         10.  Irony; 

3  Antithesis;    7.  Personification;  11.  Climax; 

4  Allegory;      8.  Apostrophe;         12.  Alliteration. 

1.  Simile  is  a  comparison  of  ohjects  based  upon  re- 
semblance; as, 

Friendship  is  like  the  mm's  eternal  rays. 

2.  Metaphor  is  an  implied  comparison  or  an  abridged 

Bimile;  as, 

Athens,  the  eye  of  Greece, 
Mother  of  arts  ajid  eloquence. 


DEFINITIONS.  3 1 

3.  Antithesis  is  a  comparison  based  upon  contrast; 
as,  Ignorance  is  the  curse  of  God — knowledge,  the  wing  where- 
with we  fly  to  heaven. 

4.  Allegory  is  an  extended  metaphor,  in  which  the 
figure  runs  through  an  entire  work;  as,  The  Pilgrim'g 
Progress. 

Among  the  varieties  of  allegory  are — 
[a.)  Parables,  based  upon  possibilities,  as  found  in  the  Sacred 

Scriptures ; 
[b.)  Fables,  based  upon  impossibilities,  as  found  in  profane 
history.     Ex.  jEsop's  Fables. 

5.  Metonymy  is  a  figure  in  which  one  object  is  de- 
scribed by  the  name  of  another. 

It  may  exist  in  four  forms  : 
(a.)  Cause  for  effect;  as.  Ye  have  Moses  and  the  prophets. 

That  is,  authors  for  writings. 
(6.)  Effect  for  cause ;  as,  There  is  death  in  the  cup.    That 

is,  death  instead  of  poison. 
(c.)  The  container  for  the  thing  contained;  as,  The  miser 

loves  his  purse.     That  is,  purse  for  moneij. 
{d.)  The  sign  for  the  thing  signified;   as,   7%e  pen  is  the 

civilizer  of  the  world.     That  is,  pen  for  literature,  or 

the  spread  of  knowledge. 

6.  Synecdoche  is  a  figure  in  which  a  name  is  given 
to  an  object  that  suggests  more  or  less  than  we  intend. 

Synecdoche  may  take  either  of  two  forms : 
(a  )  A  part  for  the  whole ;  as,  No  European  keel  had  entered 

the  harbor.     That  is,  keel  tor  vessel. 
(6.)  The  whole  for  a  part ;  as.  All  the  world  wondered.   That 

is,  world  for  people. 

T.  Personification  is  that  figure  in  which  the  attri- 
butes of  living  beings  are  ascribed  to  things  inanimate. 
Personification  may  exist  in  either  of  two  forms : 
(a.)  In  the  use  of  an  adjective ;  as.  The  rippling,  laughing 
brooks  flow  merrily  on. 


12  DEF^^UTJONS. 

(b.)  In  the  use  of  a  verb ;  as,  How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleep» 

upon  this  bank  I 

8.  Apostrophe  is  a  figure  in  which  the  absent  is  ad- 
dressed as  though  present. 

Apostrophe  may  be — 
(a.)  Pure  Apostrophe;    as,  0  Absalom  I  would  Qod  J  haa 

died  for  (hee  / 
[b.)  Apostrophe  combined  with  Personification;  as,  EoU  on, 
thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean  1  roll, 

9.  Hyperbole  is  a  figure  in  which  the  object  ia  either 
exaggerated  or  disparaged ;  as,  The  diamonds  in  thine  eyes 
might  furnish  crowns  for  all  the  queens  of  earth. 

10.  Irony  is  a  figure  employed  to  express  the  opposite 
of  the  idea  entertained  ;  as, 

For  Brutus  is  an  honorable  man  ; 
So  are  they  all — all  honorable  men. 

11.  Climax  is  a  figure  in  which  the  strength  of  the 
^ought  increases  to  the  close  of  the  sentence ;    as,  77j6 

stream  of  literature  has  swolle^i  into  a  torrent — augmented 
into  a  river — expanded  into  a  sea. 

9 

12.  Alliteration  is  a  repetition  of  the  same  initial 
letter ;  as,  Amid  the  lingering  light. 

SENTENCES. 

Sentences  are  of  two  principal  classes — Grammatical 
and  Rhetorical. 

Grammatically,  sentences  are  divided  according  to 
form  and  use. 

In  form  sentences  are  either  Simple,  Cojnplex,  or  Cbm- 
pound. 

A  Simple  Sentence  is  one  which  contains  a  single 
proposition. 

A  Complex  Sentence  is  one  which  contains  a  prin- 


DEFINITIONS.  13 

cipal  proposition  modified  by  one  or  more  subordinate 
propositions. 

A  Compound  Sentence  is  one  which  contains  two 
or  more  principal  propositions. 

According  to  their  use  sentences  are  either  Declarative., 
I-iterrrogative,  Laperatlve,  or  Exclamatory. 

A  Declarative  Sentence  is  one  used  to  afGrra  or 
deny. 

An  Interrogative  Sentence  is  one  used  to  ask  p 
question. 

An  Imperative  Sentence  is  one  used  to  express  a 
command  or  an  entreaty. 

An  Exclamatory  Sentence  is  one  used  in  exclama- 
tion. 

Rhetorically,  sentences  are  divided  into  Loose  and 
Periodic. 

A  Loose  Sentence  is  one  which  may  be  separated  into 
parts  without  destroying  the  sense ;  as, 

Leaves  have  their  time  to  fall,  \ 

And  flowers  to  wither  |  at  the  north  wind's  breath.  \ 

Remark. — Notice  that  the  sentence  may  end  at  any  one  of  the 
three  points  marked,  and  make  sense. 

A  Periodic  Sentence  is  one  in  which  tlie  complete 
9ense  is  not  expressed  until  the  close;  as, 

Over  and  over  again, 

No  matter  ivhich  way  I  turn, 
I  always  find  in  the  book  of  life 

Some  lesson  that  I  must  learn. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


Inasmuch  as  the  literature  of  a  language  is  closely  con- 
nected with  the  history  of  the  people  speaking  that  lan- 
guage, it  is  necessary,  in  order  to  stud}^  understandingly 
the  literature  of  the  English,  to  become  familiar  with 
those  historical  events  in  the  life  of  the  English  nation 
which  bear  immediately  on  the  formation  and  growth 
of  the  language  we  speak. 

The  origin  of  the  English  language  is  a  subject  of 
peculiar  interest,  not  only  to  the  student  of  English,  but 
also  to  the  student  of  general  literature.  Following  the 
ancestral  line,  he  finds  himself  carried  back  in  imagina- 
tion to  a  period  dating  many  centuries  before  the  Chris- 
tian era,  when  the  western  part  of  Europe  was  overrun 
by  nomadic  tribes  that  wandered  on  until  their  course 
was  arrested  by  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  These  people  were 
called  Celts,  and  were  supposed  to  have  come  from  Asia 
at  so  early  a  period  that  history  bears  no  record  of  tlie 
fact.  After  tlie  Celts  had  taken  possession  of  England, 
the  country  was  invaded  by  the  Romans  under  Julius 
Caesar.  The  primitive  Britons  resisted  with  all  the 
ferocity  of  their  wild  natures,  but  were  finally  com- 
pelled to  succumb  to  the  power  of  the  Roman  ""^rces. 
This  occurred  in  the  year  55  b.  c,  and  for  four  hundred 
years  the  Romans  held  possession  of  the  country,  during 
which  time  tliey  succeeded  in  establishing  their  laws 
and  customs  and  in  partially  civilizing  the  subjugated 
Celts. 

Tliose  of  the  Celtw  who  refused  to  acknowledge  the 

14 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE.         \^ 

Roman  sway  betook  themselves  to  the  mountains  of 
Wales  and  Scotland,  preferring  to  continue  in  their  bar- 
barous habits.  These  rebellious  Celts  were  known  as  the 
Plots  and  Scots  of  Wales  and  Scotland.  In  the  fifth  cen- 
tury, when  the  city  of  Rome  was  endangered  by  the  in- 
cursions of  the  Goths  and  Vandals  from  the  north  of 
Europe,  the  Roman  forces  were  called  home  to  protect 
the  Imperial  City.  After  the  withdrawal  of  the  Romans 
from  England,  the  half-civilized  Celts  were  left  in  a  help- 
less condition.  The  Scots  and  Picts  came  down  from  the 
mountains,  and  endeavored  to  take  possession  of  the 
country.  The  only  resource  of  the  Celts  was  to  call  in 
the  assistance  of  the  Anglo-Saxons.  On  the  coast  of 
the  Baltic  Sea — known  in  modern  geography  as  Jut- 
land, Schleswig,  and  Holstein — lived  the  Jutes,  Angles, 
and  Saxons.  These  people  were  pirates,  and  made  fre- 
quent incursions  upon  the  neighboring  coasts.  On  one 
of  their  piratical  expeditions  to  the  coast  of  England 
they  were  invited  by  the  Celts  to  come  and  protect 
them  against  the  invasions  of  the  Picts  and  Scots,  The 
invitation  was  accepted,  and,  under  the  leaders  Hengist 
and  Horsa,  the  Anglo-Saxons  not  only  routed  the  in- 
vaders, but  also  took  possession  of  the  country. 

The  Jutes  occupied  Kent  and  the  Isle  of  Wight,  but 
their  progress  was  so  unimportant  that  history  makes 
little  mention  of  them.  The  settlement  of  the  Angles 
and  Saxons  in  England,  about  the  year  451  a.  d.,  is  an 
important  era  in  the  history  of  the  English  language, 
for  it  was  then  that  the  foundation  of  our  language  may 
be  said  to  have  lieen  laid. 

The  minor  kingdoms  of  England,  seven  in  number, 
which  were  esta])lished  when  first  the  Angles  and  Sax- 
ons took  possession  of  the  country,  were,  in  827  a.  d., 
united  into  one  kingdom,  known  as  the  Saxon  Hept- 
archy.   The  counlry  took  the  name  of  the  Angles, ^4 7i^/g- 


IC         ORIGIN  OF  THE  ENGLISH  lANGUAGB. 

land,  and  the  government  the  name  of  the  Saxons.  The 
Heptarchy  had  been  but  fairly  established  when  the  coun- 
try was  invaded  by  the  Danes,  who  held  sway  twenty- 
eight  years,  and  who  succeeded  in  subjugating  the  Sax- 
ons almost  as  completely  as  the  Saxons  had  previously 
subjugated  the  Celts.  But  through  the  influence  of  the 
Saxon  king,  Alfred  the  Great,  tlie  leaders  of  these  two 
fierce  races  were  induced  to  yield  to  a  union,  by  which 
means  the  Anglo-Saxon  language  was  preserved,  although 
a  number  of  Danish  words  were  received  into  its  vocab- 
ulary. 

Another  important  epoch  in  the  history  of  our  lan- 
guage is  the  year  1066  a.  d.,  rendered  so  by  the  invasion 
of  England  by  the  Norman  French  under  William,  duke 
of  Normandy.  At  an  early  period  the  Norsemen,  from 
Scandinavia,  invaded  the  northern  part  of  Gaul  and  took 
possession,  calling  the  subjugated  province  Normandy. 
These  people  brought  with  them  the  bravery,  daring, 
and  fortitude  of  the  North,  which,  being  allied  with  the 
culture  and  politeness  of  the  French,  produced  a  people 
superior  to  the  ancestors  on  either  side.  William  of  Nor- 
mandy, with  his  followers,  encountered  the  Anglo-Saxons 
at  Senlac,  near  the  city  of  Hastings,  about  seventy  miles 
south-east  of  London.  The  Saxons  were  routed,  and  the 
arrogant  Norman  assumed  the  government  of  England. 
This  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  dark  periods  in  the 
history  of  our  language,  for  the  Norman  French  were 
determined  to  obliterate  every  vestige  of  the  Saxon  lan- 
guage. All  social  intercourse  and  all  business  transac- 
tions were  to  be  carried  on  in  the  Norman  language. 
Any  business  contract  made  in  the  Saxon  language  was 
to  be  regarded  as  illegal.  The  designs  of  the  Normans 
might  have  been  effected,  were  not  the  laws  of  Nature 
more  powerftd  than  those  of  man.  The  Saxons  and  the 
Normans  living  on  the  same  soil  and  being  brought  to- 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE.  17 

gether  in  social  intercourse,  gradually  intermarried,  and 
by  this  union  the  Saxon  was  raised  to  his  proper  social  po- 
eition.    As  a  result,  the  Saxon  language  again  prevailed. 

The  elements  composing  the  English  language  at  this 
time  were  the  ancient  Celtic,  the  Danish,  the  Anglo- 
Saxon,  and  the  Norman  French.  The  union  of  the 
Saxon  with  the  Norman  element  did  not  take  place 
until  the  fourteenth  century,  since  which  time  the  lan- 
guage has  been  growing  and  developing,  retaining  in  its 
grammatical  character  the  Teutonic  elements,  receiving 
frequent  accessions  from  the  French,  the  Latin,  and  the 
Greek.  The  English  language  is  therefore  composed  of 
many  parts,  the  combinations  of  which  are  especially 
advantageous  to  the  language,  supplying  the  numerous 
synonyms  which  render  the  English  so  remarkable  for 
flexibility  of  form  and  variety  of  expression. 

English  literature  proper  may  therefore  be  said  to  have 
had  its  origin  during  the  fourteenth  century,  though  pre- 
vious to  that  time  the  Saxon  epic  Beoivulf  had  attained 
a  i)lace  in  literature,  as  had  also  Caedmon's  Paraphrase  of 
the  Bible,  as  well  as  the  writings  of  Bede  and  the  transla- 
tions of  King  Alfred. 

English  Literature  may,  for  the  sake  of  convenience, 
be  divided  into  eight  eras,  as  represented  on  the  monu- 
ment, page  18.  From  the  close  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury to  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  is  included  a  period 
which  embraces  the  reigns  of  Henry  V.,  Henry  VI.,  Ed- 
ward IV.,  Edward  V.,  Richard  III.,  Henry  VIL,  Henry 
VIIL,  Edward  VI.,  and  Mary. 

During  this  last-mentioned  period,  sometimes  called 
the  Age  of  Caxton,  little  was  done  to  improve  the  litera- 
ture of  our  language.  With  the  exception  of  Utopia,  a 
prose  romance  written  by  Sir  Thomas  More,  scarcely 
any  of  the  literary  productions  of  the  age  survive. 


-^^Oi^IAK  AGE,  issol^ 

George  Eliot, 

Dickens,  Thackeray, 

FiX)ude, 

Maeaulay,  Carlyle, 

Mrs.  Browning.. 
Tennyson,  Ingelow. 


AGE  OF  SCOTT,  1800-1830. 

Byron,  Moore,  Scott, 
Coleridge,  Wordsworth. 


AGE  OF  JOHNSON,  1760-1800. 

Gray,  Goldsmith,  Burns, 
Cowper,  Johnson. 


AGE  OF  QUEEN  ANNE, 

1700-1750. 

Pope,        Addison. 


THE  RESTORATION, 
1660-1700. 

Dryden. 


THE  COMMONWEALTH, 
1625-1660. 

Milton. 


ELIZABETHAN  AGE,  1550-1625. 

Bacon,        Shakespeare, 

Spenser. 


AGE  OF  CHAUCER, 
1350-1400. 

Chaucer. 


ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 
Anglo-Saxon         t-        Norman  French. 


^M 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


I. 

AGE   OF  CHAUCER. 

13S0-1400. 

Reigns  op  Edward  III.,  Richard  II.,  and  Henry  IV. 

This  may  be  regarded  as  tlie  transition  period  of  our 
language  from  the  Old  English  to  the  modern  form. 
It  has  sometimes  been  called  the  Resurrection  English. 
Rich  streams  were  flowing  into  the  language  from  various 
sources,  all  of  which  now  began  to  mingle  and  harmonize 
in  the  formation  of  modern  English.  Chaucer,  who  is 
the  chief  author  of  the  period,  encouraged  his  country- 
men to  speak  and  write  their  mother-tongue,  leaving  the 
Latin  and  the  French  to  the  learned  and  the  court- fol- 
lowers. As  a  result,  the  new  language  became  the  speech 
of  all  England,  and  it  has  so  remained  to  the  present 
day,  though  many  changes  have  been  wrought  in  it 
even  since  Chaucer's  time. 


1.  GEOFFREY  CHAUCER, 

1328-1400. 

The  chief  and,  indeed,  the  greatest  literary  represen- 
tative of  the  age  in  which  ho  lived  was  Geoffrey  Chau- 
cer, the  son  of  a  London  vintner.  By  most  authorities 
the  date  of  his  lirth  is  given  as  the  year  1328.  He  died 
on  the  25th  of  October,  1400 

19 


20  STUDIES  jy  ENG-IJSH  LITERATURE. 

Of  Chaucer's  early  life  and  education  little  is  known. 
According  to  Warton  and  other  authorities,  he  first  en- 
tered tlie  University  at  Cambridge,  but  afterward  removed 
to  Oxford,  where  he  completed  his  collegiate  studies,  and 
then  returned  to  London.  Soon  after  this  he  left  Eng 
land,  and  traveled  through  France,  Holland,  and  other 
portions  of  Continental  Europe  for  the  purpose  of  add- 
ing to  his  accomplishments  of  both  mind  and  manners. 
Having  returned  to  London,  he  entered  the  Inner  Tem- 
ple as  a  student  of  law,  but  on  account  of  his  beauty  of 
person  and  his  graceful  and  accomplished  manners  he 
was  soon  afterward  made  a  page  to  King  Edward  III., 
with  a  stipend  of  twenty  marks  per  annum,  equal  to 
about  two  hundred  pounds. 

Chaucer  was  promoted  ra])id]y  from  one  post  to  an- 
other in  the  king's  service,  and  finally  he  was  sent  as 
ambassador  on  several  missions  to  Italy,  where,  it  is 
claimed,  he  met  the  famous  Italian  poet  Petrarch  at 
Padua.  It  is  thought  that  this  was  the  turning-point 
in  his  career,  and  that  his  love  for  the  poetry  of  Italy 
inspired  him  with  the  desire  to  become  famous  as  a 
poet.  The  Divina  Covimedia  of  Dante,  the  sonnets  of 
Petrarch,  and  the  tales  of  Boccaccio,  all  had  their  'in- 
fluence in  forming  the  captivating  style  which  character- 
izes the  literary  work  of  Chaucer.  Even  in  some  of  The 
Cnntcrhnry  Tales,  the  most  celebrated  of  his  literary  pro- 
ductions, tins  same  influence  of  Boccaccio,  the  most  \)o\- 
ished  and  elegant  of  Italian  story-tellers,  is  discernible. 

Chaucer's  earlier  ])roductions  were  mainly  translations 
from  the  French  and  the  Italian,  but  largely  changed, 
and  in  some  cases  with  such  additions  as  to  double  the 
length  of  the  poems.  His  fame,  however,  rests  almost 
wholly  on  The  Canterbury  Tales,  the  plan  of  which  seems 
to  have  been  modeled  after  Boccaccio's  Decameron.  In 
tlie  Canterbury  Tales,  a  party  of  thirty -two  "  sundry  folk  " 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER.  21 

meet  at  an  inn  and  sup  together.  The  landloid  suggests 
that  they  travel  together  to  Canterbury,  and,  in  order  to 
shorten  the  journey  and  make  time  pass  pleasantly,  that 
each  shall  tell  two  stories  both  in  going  and  in  return- 
ing and  whoever  shall  tell  the  best  shall  have  a  supper 
at  the  expense  of  the  others,  the  landlord  being  the 
judge  who  i=  to  decide  as  to  the  merits  of  the  stories. 
Among  the  personages  represented  in  the  poem  are  a 
kniglit,  a  monk,  a  friar,  a  nun,  a  yeoman,  a  parson,  a 
merchant,  a  clerk,  a  sergeant-of-law,  and  others  repre- 
senting the  English  life  of  the  time. 

Chaucer's  chief  minor  poems  are  The  Court  of  Love.,  Tlie 
Flower  and  the  Leaf,  The  House  of  Fame.,  and  Troilus  and 
Cresseide. 

CEITICISM   BY   REV.  STOPFORD  BROOKE. 

Of  Chaucer's  work  it  is  not  easy  to  speak  briefly,  be- 
cause of  its  great  variety.  No  one  could  hit  off  character 
better,  and  in  his  Prologue,  and  in  the  prologues  to  the 
several  tales,  the  whole  of  the  new,  vigorous  English  so- 
ciety which  had  grown  up  since  Edward  I.  is  painted 
with  astonishing  vividness.  "  I  see  all  the  pilgrims  in 
Tlie  Canterbury  Trt/cs,"  says  Dryden,  "  their  humors,  their 
features,  and  their  very  dress,  as  distinctly  as  if  I  had 
supped  with  tliem  at  the  Tabard  Inn  in  Southwark." 
The  tales  themselves  take  in  the  whole  range  of  the  })oetry 
of  the  Middle  Ages — the  legend  of  the  saint,  the  romance 
of  the  knight,  the  wonderful  fables  of  the  traveler,  the 
coarse  tale  of  common  life,  the  love-story,  the  allegcry, 
the  satirical  lay,  and  the  apologue.  And  they  are  pure 
tales.  He  is  said  to  have  had  dramatic  power,  but  he 
has  none.  He  is  simply  our  great  story-teller  in  verse. 
All  the  best  tales  are  told  easily,  sincerely,  with  great 
grace,  and  yet  with  so  much  homeliness  that  a  child 
would  understand  them.    Sometimes  his  humor  is  broad. 


22  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

sometimes  si}',  sometimes  gay  ;  sometimes  he  brings  tears 
into  our  eyes,  and  he  can  make  us  smile  or  be  sad  as  he 
pleases. 

lie  had  a  very  fine  ear  for  the  music  of  verse,  and 
the  tale  and  the  verse  go  together  like  voice  and  music. 
Indeed  so  softly  flowing  and  bright  are  they  that  to 
read  them  is  like  listening  in  a  meadow  full  of  sun- 
shine to  a  clear  stream  rippling  over  its  bed  of  pebbles. 
The  English  in  which  they  are  written  is  almost  the 
English  of  our  time;  and  it  is  literary  English.  Chaucer 
made  our  tongue  into  a  true  means  of  poetry.  lie  did 
more:  he  welded  together  the  French  and  English  ele- 
ments in  our  language,  and  made  tliem  into  one  English 
tool  for  the  use  of  literature,  and  all  our  prose-writers 
and  poets  derive  their  tongue  from  the  language  of  The 
Canterbury  Tales.  They  give  him  honor  for  this,  but 
still  more  for  that  he  was  tlie  first  English  artist.  Poetry 
is  an  art,  and  the  artist  in  poetry  is  one  who  writes  for 
pure  pleasure,  and  for  nothing  else,  the  thing  he  writes, 
and  who  desires  to  give  to  others  the  same  fine  pleasure 
by  his  poems  wliich  he  had  in  writing  them.  The  thing 
he  most  cares  about  is  that  the  form  in  which  he  puts 
his  tlioughts  or  feelings  may  be  perfectly  fitting  to  the 
Bubject,  and  as  beautiful  as  possible ;  but  for  this  he 
cares  very  greatly,  and  in  this  Cliaucer  stands  apart 
from  the  poets  of  his  time.  Gower  wrote  with  a  moral 
object,  and  nothing  can  be  duller  than  the  form  in  u  liich 
he  puts  his  tales.  The  author  o^  J  Hers  Plouyhman  wrote 
with  the  object  of  reform  in  social  and  ecclesiastical 
affairs,  and  his  form  is  uncouth  and  harsh.  C/haucer 
wrote  b(!cause  lie  was  full  of  emotion  and  joy  in  his 
own  thoughts,  and  thought  that  others  would  weep  and 
be  glad  with  him ;  and  the  only  time  he  ever  moralizea 
is  in  the  talcs  of  the  "  Yeoman  "  and  the  "  Manciple," 
written  in  his  decay.     He  is  our  first  English  artist 


GEOFFREY  CHAUOEB,  23 

SKETCH  OF  A   POOR  PAESON. 

Note. — In  general,  Chaucer  was  inclined  to  write  satires  on  the 
clergy,  but  the  following,  taken  from  The  Canterbwy  Tales,  is  a  re- 
deeming sketch. 

A  GOOD  man  was  ther  of  reljgioun, 

And  was  a  poure  Parsoun  of  a  toun ; 

But  riche  he  wa.s  of  holy  thought  and  werk. 

He  was  also  a  lerned  man,  a  clerk 

That  Christes  gospel  trewely  wolde  preche;  0 

His  parischens  devoutly  wolde  he  teche. 

Benigne  he  was  and  wonder  diligent, 

And  in  adversity  ful  pacient ; 

And  such  he  was  i-proved  oftesithes. 

Ful  loth  were  him  to  curse  for  his  tythes,  10 

But  rather  wolde  he  geven  out  of  dowte, 

Unto  his  poure  parischens  aboute, 

Of  his  ofFrynge,  and  eek  of  his  substaunce. 

Wyd  was  his  parisch,  and  houses  fer  asonder, 

But  he  ne  lafte  not  for  reyne  ne  thonder,  IS 

In  siknesse  nor  in  meschief  to  visite 

The  ferreste  in  his  parische,  moche  and  lite. 

Upon  his  feet,  and  in  his  bond  a  staf. 

This  noble  ensample  to  his  scheep  he  gaf. 

That  first  he  wroughte,  and  after  that  he  taughte,  20 

Out  of  the  gospel  he  tho  wordes  caughte, 


Notes. — 5.  Christes.      In    Old    13.  ofFrynge,  dues 


English  the  possessive  case 
was  denoted  by  the  termina- 
tion e.^  or  is. 

6.  parischens,  parishioners. 

9    i-proved  oftesithes,  proved 

ofttimes.  j  19.  his  scheep,  his  flock. 

IC    curse  contend. 


eek,  also. 
15.  lafte,  left  or  ceased. 
17.  ferreste,  farthest. 

moche   and  lite,  great  and 

little. 


Analtsis. — 7.  wonder  diligent.     What  part  of  speech  is  loonder  ' 
For  what  word  is  it  substituted  ? 
8.  ful  j)acienl.     Parse  both  words, 
19.  W'lat  figure  in  this  line?     Give  all  the  modifiers  of  ernampU. 


24 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


And  this  figure  he  addede  eek  therto, 
That  if  gold  ruste,  what  shall  yren  do? 
For  if  a  prest  be  foul,  on  whom  we  truste 
No  wonder  is  a  lewed  man  to  ruste ; 
He  sette  not  his  benefice  to  hyre, 
And  leet  his  scheep  encombred  in  the  myre. 
And  ran  to  Londone,  unto  Seynte  Poules, 
To  scekeu  him  a  chaunterie  for  soule.s, 
Or  with  a  bretherhede  to  ben  withholde ; 
But  dwelt  at  boom,  and  kepte  wel  his  folde, 
So  that  the  wolf  ne  made  it  not  myscarj-e. 
He  was  a  scheplierde  and  no  niercenarie, 
And  though  he  holy  were,  and  vertuous, 
He  was  to  sinful  man  nought  dispitious, 
Ne  of  his  speche  daungerous  ne  digne, 
But  in  his  teching  discret  and  benigne. 
To  drawe  folk  to  heven  by  fairnesse, 
By  good  ensample,  this  was  his  busynesse. 
But  it  were  eny  person  obstinat, 
What  so  he  were,  of  high  or  lowe  estat, 
Him  wolde  he  snybbe  scharply  for  the  nones, 
A  bettre  preest  I  trowe  there  nowher  non  is. 
He  waytede  after  no  pomj)e  and  reverence, 
He  makede  him  a  spiced  conscience, 
But  Cristea  lore,  and  his  apostles  twelve, 
He  taughte,  and  first  he  folwede  it  himselve. 


SB 


80 


36 


40 


46 


Notes. — 23.  yren,  iron. 

25.  lewed,  unlearned. 

28,  Seynte  Poules,  St.  Paul's. 
Notice  the  change  in  the 
possessive  termination. 

SO    bretherhede   to   withholde, 


brotherhood  to  be  enroll- 
ed. 

36.  digne,  high  or  haughty. 

43.  snybbe  scharply  for  the 
nones,  snub  or  rebuke 
sharply  for  the  occasion. 


Analysis. — 27.  What  figure  in  this  line? 
'28,  29.  Point  ovit  the  modifiers  of  ran. 

38-39.  What  is  the  subject  of  the  sentence?     Show  what  is  id 
apposition  with  thi% 

44-47.  Write  these  four  lines  in  mfxlem  English. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS.  25 

CONTEMPOKARIES  OF  THE  AGE  OF  CEAUCEB. 

POETS. 

Robert  Langland  (about  1332-1400). — A  secular  priest  and  & 
Fellow  of  Oriel  College,  Oxford.  Author  of  the  Vision  of  Pier* 
Ploughman. 

John  Gower  ( 1325 ?-1408).— Called  by  Chaucer  "Moral  Gow- 
er."  Author  of  Speculum  Meditaniis,  Vox  Clamantis,  and  tlie 
Confessio  Amantls. 

John  Barbour  (1316?-1396). — A  Scotch  poet,  archdeacon  of 
Aberdeen.     His  greatest  poem  is  The  Bruce. 

PROSE-WRITERS. 

Sir  John  Mandeville  (1300-1372).— The  earliest  writer  of  Eng- 
lish prose.  Studied  for  the  medical  profession.  Was  a  traveler 
for  thirty-four  years.  His  book,  Mcmdeville's  Travels,  was  the 
first  English  book  published. 

John  Wycliffe  (1324-1384). — A  learned  and  eloquent  preacher. 
Sometimes  called  "  The  Morning  Star  of  the  Reformati  ^n." 
Educated  at  Oxford.  His  chief  Latin  work  is  Trialngus,-  his 
chief  English  production,  the  first  English  translation  oJ  «>« 
•fhole  Bible. 


II. 

THE   ELIZABETHAN    AGE. 

1550-162B. 
Reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James  I. 

This  was  the  most  brilliant  period  in  the  history  of 
our  literature.  It  produced  not  only  a  Spenser,  a 
Shakespeare,  and  a  Bacon,  but  also  a  host  of  dramatic 
and  other  poets  whose  writings  would  in  any  other  age 
have  placed  them  in  the  foremost  rank  of  the  literary 
men  of  their  time.  Not  only  during  the  reign  of  Eliz- 
abeth, but  also  during  that  of  her  successor,  King  James 
I.,  did  literary  genius  put  forth  its  most  brilliant  efforts. 
The  invention  of  printing,  the  study  of  classical  litera- 
ture, the  freedom  with  which  all  questions  were  dis- 
cussed, the  translations  from  the  literature  of  France 
and  Italy,  the  revised  translation  of  the  Scri])turcs,  and 
the  general  introduction  of  the  inductive  philosophy, — 
all  had  a  tendency  to  encourage  literary  effort  and  de- 
velop the  literary  taste  of  the  age. 

It  was  this  age  also  that  witnessed  the  marvelous 
development  of  the  English  drama.  The  earliest  form 
of  the  drama  in  England  was  that  known  as  the  Miracle 
Play,  or  Mystery,  which  was  acted  in  the  churches  and 
convents  either  by  the  clergy  or  under  their  immediate 
Buporvision.  The  subjects  chosen  were  usually  some 
striking  mystery  of  Scripture,  as  the  Atonement,  the  Cre- 
ation, the  Crucifixion,  the  Deluge,  the  Resurrection,  etc., 
and  the  only  knowledge  of  Scri])turc  possessed  by  the 
masses  was  derived  from  these  plays.  About  the  mid- 
26 


THE  ELIZABETHAN  AGE.  27 

die  of  the  thirteenth  century  sometimes  a  full  set  of 
plays  was  acted,  setting  forth  the  whole  of  sacred  his- 
tory from  the  Creation  to  the  Day  of  Judgment.  These 
usually  continued  for  about  a  week.  In  order  to  please 
the  ignorant  and  illiterate,  the  comic  element  was  intro- 
duced, and  the  chief  comedian  chosen  was  the  Prince  of 
the  Infernal  Regions,  who  was  always  represented,  accord- 
ing to  the  popular  notion,  with  horns,  hoofs,  and  tail. 

The  Miracle  Plays  were  gradually  changed  into  the 
Moralities.  Here  Justice,  Virtue,  etc.  were  substituted 
for  the  Scripture  ])ersonages.  The  object  now  was  to 
teach  not  religion,  but  moralit3\  The  Devil  was  still 
retained  to  furnish  tlie  comic  features  of  the  play,  and 
the  contest  between  hira  and  the  Vice  represented  in  the 
play  furnished  the  chief  amusement  to  the  audience. 

The  Morahties  formed  the  basis  of  the  modern  drama. 
The  serious  portions  gave  us  the  elements  of  English 
tragedy,  and  the  comic  those  of  English  comedy.  But 
previous  to  the  comedy  proper  came  the  Interludes,  which 
resembled  our  modern  Farce;  and  of  these  John  Hey- 
wood,  who  lived  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  was  prob- 
ably the  most  noted  writer. 

The  first  representative  of  the  modern  drama  was  the 
first  English  comedy,  Ralph  Roister  Bolster,  a  picture  of 
London  life,  written  by  Nicholas  Udall  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  sixteenth  century.  Udall  was  a  Lutheran 
and  head-master  of  Eton  College,  where  he  made  him- 
self notorious  for  his  cruel  floggings.  The  first  Eng- 
lish tragedy  is  supposed  to  have  been  Gorboduc,  or  the 
old  British  story  Ferrex  and  Porrc.r,  dramatized  by  Sack- 
ville  and  Norton,  and  acted  in  1561  by  the  students  of 
the  Inner  Temple.  New  interest  was  given  to  the  plays 
by  the  introduction  of  real  human  characters  instead  of 
continuing  the  representation  of  the  abstract  virtues; 
and  from  this  time  forward  the  English  drama  mad© 


28  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

sucli  rapid  strides  that  in  a  few  years  the  magnificent 
creations  of  Shakespeare's  genius  took  the  place  of  tlie 
grotesque  drolleries  of  Heywood,  and  the  English  court 
and  the  English  people  could  sit  and  laugh  at  the  rol- 
licking humor  of  the  broadest  comedy  or  tremble  at  tlie 
stirring  passion  of  the  greatest  tragedies  the  world  has 
ever  known. 

The  first  English  theatre  was  built  at  I>lack friars,  in 
London,  in  1576.  It  was  merely  a  round  wooden  wall, 
enclosing  an  open  space,  except  that  occupied  by  the 
stage,  which  was  covered.  The  Globe  Tlieatre,  which  was 
built  for  Shakespeare,  was  erected  in  1594.  It  was  the 
model  after  which  nearly  all  others  were  patterned. 
The  exterior  was  hexagonal,  and  the  interior  circular. 
The  scenery  was  of  the  rudest  description.  A  change 
of  scene  was  announced  by  hanging  out  a  placard  with 
the  name  of  the  place — Padua,  Paris,  or  some  other  city 
— painted  on  it.  The  audience  consisted  of  groundlings, 
*vho  occupied  the  pit,  and  the  gallants,  who  sat  in  two 
rows  on  the  stage,  the  actors  plaj'ing  between  them. 
The  actors,  of  whom  Shakespeare  and  the  scholarly 
Ben  Jonson  were  representatives,  also  wrote  for  the 
<tage.     The  two  callings  were  nearly  always  united. 


2.  EDMUND   SPENSER, 

1553-1599. 

One  of  the  most  illustrious  representatives  of  the  Eliz- 
alx'than  era  of  English  literature  was  P^dmund  Spenser, 
bom  in  East  Smithfield,  London,  in  1553.  His  parents 
were  poor,  and  young  Spenser  entered  Pembroke  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  as  a  "  sizar,"  or  charity  student,  in 
1569,  and  remained  at  college  until  he  took  his  degree 
of  M.  A.  in  1576,  seven  years  later. 


EDMUND  SPENSER.  2U 

While  at  college  his  companion  was  the  scholarly 
Gabriel  Harvey,  who  exerted  no  small  inllnence  11 
shaping  Spenser's  future  career.  After  leaving  college, 
Spenser  went  to  the  north  of  England,  and  having  been 
rejected  by  a  lady  whom  he  calls  Rosalind,  and  to  whom 
he  had  avowed  his  love,  he  again  repaired  to  London, 
where  his  friend  Harvey  introduced  him  to  the  chival- 
ric  and  accomplished  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  who  in  turn 
encouraged  the  poet  and  inspired  him  to  grai.der 
efforts. 

Spenser's  first  great  poem  was  a  pastoral  called  The 
Shepherd's  Calendar,  which  he  dedicated  to  Sidney.  Sir 
Philip  urged  him  to  write  something  higher  and  better 
than  this  pastoral,  and  Spenser  then,  after  ten  years,  pro- 
duced the  Faerie  Queene,  his  grandest  work,  an  extended 
allegory,  full  of  half-concealed  beauty  and  noted  for  its 
wealth  of  imagery,  in  which  the  virtues  of  temperance, 
chastity,  justice,  etc.  are  set  forth  in  the  ])ersons  of 
knights.  The  poem  was  dedicated  to  the  Queen,  and 
was  written  in  a  peculiar  versification,  sin'^/j  known  as 
the  "  Spenserian  stanza." 

In  1582  the  Queen  gave  to  Spenser  a  grant  of  land  in 
Ireland,  but  also  obliged  him  to  live  on  it ;  which  really 
banished  him  from  England.  He  married  at  the  age 
of  forty-one.  Four  years  later  he  was  driven  from  his 
home  by  the  Irish  rebellion  ;  his  castle  was  burned,  and 
with  it  one  of  his  children.  Crushed  by  his  grief,  he 
fled  with  his  family  to  England,  and  in  January,  .599. 
the  gentle  and  sensitive  poet  died.  He  was  buried  with 
great  ceremony  by  the  side  of  Chaucer  in  Westminster 
A  bbey . 

The  greatest  of  Spenser's  other  poems  were  Hymns  oj 
Heavenly  Love,  Heavenly  Beauty,  his  adniirable  Simneia^ 
and  Epithalamion,  the  grandest  marriage-song  in  tlie  lan- 
guage. 


30  STUDIES  /A  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

CRITICISM  BY   TAINE. 

Si'ENSER  was  pre-eminently  a  creator  and  a  dreamer, 
and  that  most  naturally,  instinctively,  unceasingly.  But 
what  distinguishes  him  from  all  others  is  the  mode  of 
his  imagination.  Generally,  with  a  poet  his  mind  fer- 
ments vehemently  and  by  fits  and  starts;  his  ideas 
gather,  jostle  each  other,  suddenly  appear  in  masses 
and  heaps,  and  burst  forth  in  sharp,  piercing,  concen- 
trative  words ;  it  seems  that  they  need  these  sudden 
accumulations  to  imitate  the  unity  and  life-like  energy 
of  the  objects  which  they  produce.  At  least  almost  all 
the  poets  of  that  time,  Shakespeare  at  their  head,  act 
thus. 

Spenser  remains  calm  in  the  fervor  of  invention.  The 
visions  which  would  be  fever  to  another  leave  him  at 
peace.  They  come  and  unfold  themselves  before  him 
easily,  entire,  uninterrupted,  without  starts.  He  is  epic 
— that  is,  a  narrator — not  a  singer  like  an  ode-writer,  nor 
a  mimic  like  a  play-writer.  No  modern  is  more  like 
Homer.  Like  Homer  and  the  great  epic-writers,  he  only 
presents  consecutive  and  noble,  almost  classical,  images 
• — 80  nearly  ideas  that  the  mind  seizes  them  unaided  and 
unawares.  Like  Homer,  he  is  always  simple  and  clear ; 
he  makes  no  leaps ;  he  omits  nc  arguments ;  he  robs  no 
word  of  its  primitive  and  ordinary  meanings ;  he  pre- 
serves the  natural  sequence  of  ideas.  Like  Homer, 
again,  he  is  redundant,  ingenuous,  even  childish.  He 
says  everything;  he  puts  down  reflections  which  we 
^ave  made  beforehand ;  he  repeats  without  limit  his 
grand  ornamental  epithets.  We  can  see  that  he  be- 
holds objects  in  a  beautiful  uniform  light,  with  infinite 
detail ;  that  he  wishes  to  show  all  this  detail,  never  fear- 
ing to  see  his  happy  dream  change  or  dis.appoar;  that 
he  traces  its  outline  with  a  regular  movement,  never 


EDMUND  SPENSER.  31 

hurrying  or  slacking.  He  is  even  a  little  prolix — too 
unmindful  of  the  public,  too  ready  to  lose  himself  and 
dream  about  the  things  he  beholds. 

His  thought  expands  in  vast  repeated  comparisons, 
like  those  of  the  old  Ionic  poet.  He  develops  all  the 
ideas  which  he  handles.  All  his  phrases  become  periods. 
Instead  of  compressing,  he  expands 

Magic  is  the  mould  of  his  mind,  and  impresses  its 
shape  on  all  that  he  imagines  or  thinks.  Involuntarily, 
he  robs  objects  of  their  ordinary  form.  If  he  looks  at  a 
landscape,  after  an  instant  he  sees  it  quite  differently. 
He  carries  it  unconsciously  into  an  enchanted  land ;  the 
azure  heaven  sparkles  like  a  canopy  with  flowers,  a  biped 
population  flutters  in  the  balmy  air,  palaces  of  jasper 
Bhine  among  the  trees,  radiant  ladies  appear  on  carved 
balconies  above  galleries  of  emerald.  This  unconscious 
toil  of  mind  is  like  the  slow  crystallization  of  Nature. 
A  moist  twig  is  cast  into  the  bottom  of  a  mine,  and  is 
brought  out  again  a  hoop  of  diamonds. 

THE  BOWEE  OJ?'  BLISS. 
Note. — The  following  extract,  in  which  the  spelling  is  modern- 
ized, is  taken  from  the  Faerie  Queene.     It  is  but  a  portion  of  tb« 
beautiful  description  of  "Tlie  Bower  of  Bliss." 

There  the  most  dainty  paradise  on  ground 

Itself  doth  offer  to  his  sober  eye, 

In  which  all  pleasures  plenteously  abound, 

And  none  does  others'  happiness  envy ; 

The  painted  flowers,  the  trees  upshooting  high 

The  dales  for  shade,  the  hills  for  breathing  space, 

The  trembling  groves,  the  crystal  running  by  ; 


Analysis. — 2.  sober  eye.    What  figure  here  ? 

3.  "Why  plenteously,  rather  than  plentifully  f 

4.  Is  none  in  the  singular  or  the  plural  number? 

5.  6,  7.  Name  and  explain  the  figures  in  these  line*. 
7    Tht  crystal  running  by.     Give  the  meaning. 


32  STUDTES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

And  tliat  which  all  fair  works  doth  most  aggrace, 
The  art  which  all  that  wrought,  appeared  in  no  place. 

One  would  have  thought — so  cunningly  the  rudt>  10 

And  scorned  parts  were  mingled  with  the  fine — 
That  Nature  had  for  wantonness  ensued 
Art,  and  that  Art  at  Nature  did  repine; 
So  striving  each  th'  other  to  undermine, 

Each  did  the  other's  work  more  beautiiy ;  16 

So  differing  both  in  wills,  agreed  in  fine: 
So  all  agreed  through  sweet  diversity. 
This  garden  to  adorn  with  all  variety. 

And  in  the  midst  of  all  a  fountain  stood 
Of  richest  substance  that  on  earth  might  be,  80 

So  pure  and  shiny,  that  the  silver  flood 
Tlirough  every  channel  running  one  might  see; 
Most  goodly  it  with  curious  imagery 
Was  overwrought,  and  ahajics  of  naked  boys. 
Of  which  some  seemed  with  lively  jollity  2i 

To  fly  about,  playing  their  wanton  toys. 
While  others  did  embay  themselves  in  liquid  joys. 


Analysis. — 8.  And  that.    Give  grammatical  construction  of  thai. 

What  is  the  meaning  of  ayyracef 
10.  What  is  the  object  of  would  have  thought* 
10,  11.  80  cunningly  ....  fine.     Give  grammatical  construction. 
13.  did  repine.     Is  this  the  emphatic  form,  or  llie  ancient  form  of 
Uie  past  tense? 

14  15.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  each. 

17    Name  the  nuxHtiera  of  agreed. 

18.  to  adorn.     Of  what  in  tliis  an  adjunct? 

What  figure  runs  through  the  second  stanza? 
.'9  22.  Rewrite  these  lines  in  natural  order. 

23.  Moxt  goodly.     Modernize. 

24.  In  what  case  is  nhape-sf 

25.  of  which.     Should  this  not  be  of  whomf 

26.  To  fly  about.     .Should  tliis  he  to  fly  or  to  flee  f 

27.  embay.     Tiie  word  ih  now  oliKoiote.     It  meant  to  bathe. 


EDMUND  SPEXSER.  oS 

And  over  all,  of  purest  gold,  was  spread 
A  trail  of  ivy  in  his  native  hue ; 

For  the  rich  metal  was  so  colored,  80 

That  wight,  who  did  not  well  advised  it  view, 
Would  surely  deem  it  to  be  ivy  true : 
Low  his  lascivious  arms  adown  did  creep, 
That  themselves  dipping  in  the  silver  dew, 
Their  fleecy  flowers  they  fearfully  did  steep,  85 

Which  drops  of  crystal  seemed  for  wantonness  to  weep. 

Infinite  streams  continually  did  well 
Out  of  this  fountain,  sweet  and  fair  to  see. 
The  which  into  an  ample  laver  fell. 

And  shortly  grew  to  so  great  quantity,  40 

That  like  a  little  lake  it  seemed  to  be ; 
Whose  depth  exceeded  not  three  cubits  height. 
That  through  the  waves  one  might  the  bottom  see, 
All  paved  beneath  with  jasper  shining  bright. 
That  seemed  the  fountain  in  that  sea  did  sail  upright.  45 

And  all  the  margin  round  about  was  set 

With  shady  laurel  trees,  thence  to  defend 

The  sunny  beams,  which  on  the  billows  beat, 

And  those  which  therein  bathed  might  offend 


Analysis. — 28,  29.  Transpose  and  rewrite  these  two  lines. 

34.  silver  dew.     Explain  and  point  out  the  figure. 

S5.  fleecy  flowers.     What  figure?     Notice  the  alliteration. 

36.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  which  ?     In  what  case  is  drops  f 

Zl.  did  well.     What  is  the  modern  word  ? 

38  fair  to  see.     Tliat  is,  fair  to  be  seen — so  used  by  poetic  licenee. 

39.  Note  the  use  of  The  before  which.   What  is  the  meaning  of  laver  * 

41.  Parse  like.     What  figure  in  the  line? 

44  All  paved.     Purse  all ;  also  beiieath  and  bright. 

45  Reconstruct  this  line  so  as  to  develop  the  meaning. 

46.  Parse  round  about. 

47.  to  defend,  to  keep  ofi'.     Give  the  etymology  of  the  word.     Give 
she  meaning  of  thevce. 

48.  49.  Name  the  antecedent  of  which  in  each  line. 

49.  Explain  the  meaning  of  this  line. 
3 


3.  WILLIAM    SHAKESPEARE, 

1564-1616. 

The  brightest  name  that  adorns  the  Elizabethan 
period  of  English  literature,  indeed  one  of  the  brightest 
in  the  whole  history  of  English  letters,  is  that  of  ^V  il- 
LiAM  Shakespeare,  who  was  born  on  the  23d  of  April, 
1564,  at  Stratford-upon-Avon,  in  "Warwickshire,  Eng- 
land. His  fiither,  John  Shakespeare,  was  a  wool-comber 
or  glover,  whose  social  position  had  been  somewhat 
elevated  by  his  marriage  with  a  rustic  heiress,  Jlary 
Arden. 

But  little  is  known  of  the  boyhood  of  Shakespeare 
The  morals  of  the  time  were  not  of  a  liigh  standard,  and 
Shakespeare's  youthful  life  was  not  above  the  average. 
At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  married  Anne  Hathaway,  who 
was  almost  eight  years  older  than  himself.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  a  yeoman  living  within  a  mile  of  Stratford. 

About  the  year  1587  he  removed  to  London,  where  he 
became  a  member  of  the  Globe  Theatre,  with  which  he 
retained  connection  as  an  actor  and  a  stockholder  to  the 
time  of  his  retirement  to  Stratford  in  1611,  nearly  twen- 
ty-five 3'ears  later.  As  an  actor,  however,  Shakespeare 
never  became  either  remarkably  successful  or  popular. 
Like  most  young  men  of  his  calling  at  that  time,  he 
rendered  himself  doubly  useful  in  his  connection  with 
the  theatre  as  an  actor  and  as  an  arranger  of  pieces. 

Shakespeare's  first  successful  literary  work  was,  doubt- 
less, that  of  adapting  old  i)lay8  to  the  requirements  of 
his  own  theatre.  But  he  soon  tired  of  this  sort  of  work, 
and,  relying  upon  his  own  genius,  he  soon  surpassed 
34 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE:  35 

both  his  predecessors  and  his  contemporaries  as  a  writer 
of  dramatic  poetry.  Most  of  his  plots  are  borrowed — 
some  from  Plutarch,  some  from  Holinshed's  Chronicle^ 
some  from  novels  and  romances,  and  some  from  older 
dramas. 

Shakespeare's  best-known  works  consist  of  thirty- 
seven  dramas,  which  may  be  divided  into  tragedies, 
comedies,  and  historical  plays.  Among  his  best  trag- 
edies are  Hamlet,  Othello,  Macbeth,  and  King  Lear  ;  among 
the  comedies,  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Midsummer  NigMs 
Dream,  and  As  You  Like  It ;  and  among  the  historical 
plays,  King  Richard  IIL,  King  Henry  VL,  Julius  Cassar, 
and  King  Henry  V. 

Shakespeare  died  at  Stratford  in  the  year  1616,  on  the 
23d  of  April,  the  fifty-second  anniversary  of  his  birth- 
day, and  was  buried  in  that  village.  His  grave  was  first 
marked  by  a  plain  stone,  the  inscription  on  which,  said 
to  have  been  written  by  Shakespeare  himself,  was  as 
follows : 

"  Good  friend,  for  Jesus'  sake  forbear 
To  dig  the  dust  enclosed  liere. 
Blest  be  the  man  that  spares  these  stones 
And  curst  be  he  that  moves  my  bones  !'* 

CEITICISM  BY   DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

This,  therefore,  is  the  praise  of  Shakespeare,  that  liis 
drama  is  the  mirror  of  life;  that  he  who  has  mazed  his 
imagination,  in  following  the  phantoms  which  other 
writers  raise  up  before  him,  may  here  be  cured  of  his 
delirious  ecstasies  by  reading  human  sentiments  in 
human  language,  by  scenes  from  which  a  hermit  may 
estimate  the  transactions  of  the  world,  and  a  confessor 
predict  the  progress  of  the  passions 

If  there  be,  what  I  believe  tliere  is,  in  every  nation,  a 


36 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


Btyle  which  never  becomes  ohsolete,  a  certain  mode  of 
phraseology  so  consonant  and  congenial  to  the  analogy 
and  principles  of  its  respective  language  as  to  remain 
settled  and  unaltered,  this  style  is  probably  to  be  sought 
in  the  common  intercourse  of  life  among  those  who  speak 
only  to  be  understood,  without  ambition  of  elegance. 
The  polite  are  always  catching  modish  innovations,  and 
the  learned  depart  from  established  forms  of  speech  in 
hope  of  finding  or  making  better ;  those  who  wish  for 
distinction  forsake  the  vulgar  when  the  vulgar  is  right; 
but  there  is  a  conversation,  above  grossness  and  below 
refinement,  where  proi)riety  resides,  and  where  this  poet 
seems  to  have  gathered  his  comic  dialogue.  He  is,  there- 
fore, more  agreeable  to  the  ears  of  the  present  age  than 
any  other  author  equally  remote,  and,  among  his  other 
excellences,  deserves  to  be  studied  as  one  of  the  original 
masters  of  our  lanffuajre. 


TRIAL-SCENE  FROM   "THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE." 

The  following  extract  is  taken  from  Scene  2,  Act  IV.,  of  the  Mtr- 
tlumt  of  Venice,  one  of  Sliakespeare's  most  popular  comedies. 

Enter  Portia,  dirssed  like  a  doctor  of  laws. 

Duke.     Give  me  your  band.     Come  you  from  old  Bellario  f 

Portia.     I  did,  my  lord. 

Duke.    You  are  welcome. 
Are  you  acquainted  with  the  difference 
That  holds  this  present  question  in  the  court?  I 

Par.     I  am  inlormud  througldy  of  the  cause. 
Which  is  the  merchant  here  and  which  the  .lew? 

Duke,     Antonio  and  Shylock,  both  stand  forth. 

Pot      Is  your  name  Shylock  ? 


K0TE8. — 4,  5.  the  difference  that 
holds,  etc.  Tliat  is,  the  cause 
of  the  dispute. 


6.  throughly,  thoroughly. 
8.  Antonio,  tlie  merchant 
Shylock,  «he  Jew. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


37 


A,L 

For. 
Shy. 
Por. 


Shylich.    Shylock  is  my  name. 
Por.  Of  a  strange  nature  is  the  suit  you  follow', 
Yet  in  such  rule  that  the  Venetian  law 
Cannot  impugn  you,  as  you  do  proceed. 
You  stand  within  his  danger,  do  you  not? 
Antonio.     Ay,  so  lie  says. 
Pot      Do  you  confess  the  bond? 
I  uo. 

Then  must  the  Jew  be  merciful. 
On  what  compulsion  must  I  ?     Tell  me  that, 
The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained ; 
It  drop])eth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath  ;  it  is  twice  blessed ; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes ; 
'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest;  it  becomes 
The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown ; 
His  sceptre  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 
The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 
"Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings ; 
But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptered  sway, 
It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings, 
It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself; 
And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's 
When  mercy  seasons  justice.    Therefore,  Jew, 
Though  justice  be  thy  plea,  consider  this, 


10 


[  To  Anto>^io. 


15 


20 


25 


30 


Notes. — 12.  in  such  rule,  strictly 

according  to  the  form. 
13.  impugn,  call  in  question. 


22.  twice  blessed,  doubly  blesfie<l. 
26.  shows,  expresses,  symbolizes. 
32.  show,  appear. 


Analysis. — 10.  What  is  the  subject  of  the  sentenc*? 

14.  within  his  dnmjer.     Explain. 

If  19.  In  which  line  dues  mui^t  express  obligation  or  conipui«ca  j 

21.  Give  the  case  of  rain. 

22,  Upon  the  plar.e  beneath.     What  does  this  phrase  modify? 
24.  ' Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest.     Explain. 

28.  Wherein  doth  sit,  etc.     Is  the  sentence  correct  ? 
30.  enthrouM.     Why  is  the  accent-mark  place!   on  eclf     What 
figure  in  the  line? 

34.  What  is  the  mode  of  he  * 


38 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


That  in  the  course  of  justice  none  of  us  86 

Should  see  salvation  ;  we  do  pray  for  mercy  ; 

And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 

The  deeds  of  mercy.     I  have  spoke  thus  much 

To  mitigate  the  justice  of  thy  plea, 

Wliich  if  thou  follow,  this  strict  court  of  Venice  40 

Mua*.  needs  give  sentence  'gainst  the  merchant  there. 

Sliy.    My  deeds  upon  my  head !     I  crave  the  law, 
The  penalty  and  forfeit  of  my  bond. 

Por.     Is  he  not  able  to  discharge  the  money? 

Bassanio.    Yes,  here  I  tender  it  for  him  in  the  court;       45 
Yea,  twice  the  sura  ;  if  that  will  not  suffice, 
I  will  be  bound  to  pay  it  ten  times  o'er, 
On  forfeit  of  my  hands,  my  head,  my  heart. 
If  this  will  not  suffice,  it  must  appear 

That  malice  bears  down  truth.     And  I  beseech  you,  60 

Wrest  once  the  law  to  your  authority : 
To  do  a  great  right,  do  a  little  wrong. 
And  curb  this  cruel  devil  of  his  will. 

Por.  It  must  not  be.     There  is  no  power  in  Venice 
Can  alter  a  decree  established :  65 

'Twill  be  recorded  for  a  precedent, 
And  many  an  error  by  the  same  example 
Will  rush  into  the  state.     It  cannot  be. 

Shij.     A  Daniel  come  to  judgment;  yea,  a  Daniel  I 
O  wise  young  judge,  how  I  do  honor  thee  I  60 


Notes. — 37.  that  same  prayer, 
the  Lord's  Prayer. 

44.  discharge  the  money,  dis- 
charge the  debt. 


50.  malice   bears   down   truth, 

malice  overcomes  lionesty. 

51.  Wrest  once,  turn  aiide  for 

once. 


AkaIvYSIS. — 3S.  I  have  npohe.     Mixlemize. 

40.  What  iH  the  case  of   Which  f     AVltat  is  the  meaning  of  the  ex- 
pression,  Which  if  thou  follow,  etc.  ? 

41.  What  is  the  use  of  the  apostrophe  in  'gainatt 

42.  Supply  the  ellipsis. 

52.  to  do,  etc.     What  does  it  modify? 
55.  What  is  the  subject  of  can  alter  t 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE.  39 

Por.  I  pray  you,  let  me  look  upon  your  bond. 

Shy.  Here  'tis,  most  reverend  doctor,  here  it  is. 

Por.  Shylock,  there's  thrice  thy  money  offered  thee. 

Shy.  An  oath,  an  oath,  I  have  an  oath  in  heaven. 
Shall  I  lay  perjury  upon  my  soul  ?  65 

No,  not  for  Venice. 

Por.  Why,  tins  bond  is  forfeit; 

And  lawfully  by  this  the  Jew  may  claim 
A  pound  of  flesh,  to  be  by  him  cut  off 

Nearest  the  merchant's  heart. — Be  merciful ;  70 

Pake  thrice  thy  money ;  bid  me  tear  the  bond. 

Shy.    When  it  is  paid  acco'-ding  to  the  tenor. 
Tt  doth  appear  you  are  a  worthy  judge; 
You  know  the  law,  your  exposition 

Hath  been  most  sound  :  I  charge  you  by  the  law,  76 

Whereof  you  are  a  well-deserving  pillar. 
Proceed  to  judgment.     By  my  soul  I  swear 
There  is  no  power  in  the  tongue  of  man 
To  alter  me :  I  stay  here  on  my  bond. 

Ant.     Most  heartily  1  do  beseech  the  court  80 

To  give  the  judgment. 

Por.  Why,  then,  thus  it  is ; 

You  must  prepare  your  bosom  for  his  knife. 

Shy.    O  noble  judge  1     O  excellent  young  man  1 

Por.     For  the  intent  and  purpose  of  the  law  85 

Hath  full  relation  to  the  penally, 
AVhich  here  appeareth  due  upon  the  bond. 

Shy.     'Tis  very  true:  O  wise  and  upright  judge  I 


NoTE.s. — 61.  let  me  look  upon, 
let  me  examhie. 

72  according  to  the  tenor,  ac- 
cording to  the  iutent. 


74.  your  expositon,  your  state- 
ment of  the  law. 
8G.  Hath  full   relation,  aj  plies 
fully. 


Analysis. — 6.*?.  ilia-^s.    Give  grammatical  construction. 

76.  Point  out  the  tifture  in  this  line. 

78.  Parse  the  word  there. 

80.  Nao  e  the  modifiers  of  do  beseech. 


40  STUDIES  IN  ENOLISH  LITERATUBn.. 

How  much  more  elder  art  thou  than  i/iy  looks! 

Por.    Therefore,  lay  bare  your  bosom.  90 

Shy.    Ay,  his  breast : 
80  says  the  bond  : — Doth  it  not,  noble  judge? — 
Nearest  his  heart, — those  are  the  very  words. 

Par.     It  is  so.     Are  there  balance  here  to  weigh 
The  flesh?  96 

Shy.    I  have  them  ready. 

For.     Have  by  some  surgeon,  Shylock,  on  your  charge, 
To  stop  his  wounds,  lest  he  do  bleed  to  death. 

Shy.    Is  it  so  nominated  in  the  bond  ? 

For.     It  is  not  so  expressed ;  but  what  of  that?  104 

'Twere  good  you  do  so  much  for  charity. 

Shy.     I  cannot  find  it ;  'tis  not  in  the  bond. 

For.     You,  merchant,  have  you  anything  to  say? 

Ant.     But  little ;  I  am  armed,  and  well  prepared. 
Give  me  your  hand,  Bassauio;  fare  you  welll  l^ 

Grieve  not  that  I  am  fallen  to  this  for  you  ; 
For  herein  Fortune  shows  herself  more  kind 
Than  is  her  custom :  it  is  still  her  use 
To  let  the  wretched  man  outlive  his  wealth, 


Notes. — 89.  more    elder.     This  '  94.  balance.      This   is   evident- 


was  the  old  form,  ihough 
double  comparatives  are  not 
allowable  in  modern  Eng- 
lish. 


ly  the  same  as  the  present 

word  balances. 
97.  Have  by,  have  present. 
99.  nominated,  expressed,  named. 


AXAT.YSIS. — S9.  What  verb  is  understood  after  InnhT 
93.  Nearest  his  heart.     What  is  the  constrnction  ? 

97.  071  your  charye.     Give  the  meaning. 

98.  To  slop  kin  wonnda.     Wli:it  ligiire  ? 

do  bleed.     In  what  mode  is  this  verb? 
101.  Modernize  the  line.     Give  tiie  mode  of  were. 
103.    You,  merchant.     Give  the  case  of  each  word. 

105.  fare  yo^i  well.     How  is  this  expressed  at  present? 

106.  I  am/alien.     Modernize. 

109.  outlive.    Give  the  granmiatioal  construction.     Give  the  mod 
lliers  of  to  lei. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


41 


To  view  with  liollow  eye  and  wrinkled  brow  110 

An  age  of  poverty :  from  which  lingering  penance 

Of  such  a  misery  doth  she  cut  me  off. 

Commend  me  to  your  honorable  wife ; 

Tell  her  the  process  of  Antonio's  end  ; 

Say  how  I  loved  you,  speak  me  fair  in  death;  115 

And  when  the  tale  is  told,  bid  her  be  judge 

Whether  Bassanio  had  not  once  a  love. 

Repent  but  you  that  you  shall  lose  your  friend, 

And  he  repents  not  that  he  pays  your  debt ; 

For  if  the  Jew  do  cut  but  deep  enough,  120 

I'll  pay  it  presently  with  all  my  heart. 

Bas.     Antonio,  I  am  married  to  a  wife 
Which  is  as  dear  to  me  as  life  itself; 
But  life  itself,  my  wife,  and  all  the  world, 

Are  not  with  me  esteemed  above  thy  life :  125 

I  would  lose  all,  ay,  sacrifice  them  all 
Here  to  this  devil,  to  deliver  you. 

For.     Your  wife  would  give  you  little  thanks  for  that, 
If  she  were  by,  to  hear  you  make  the  offer. 

Gratiano.     I  have  a  wife,  whom,  I  protest,  I  love :  130 

I  would  she  were  in  heaven,  so  she  could 
Entreat  some  power  to  change  this  currish  Jew. 

Nerissa.     'Tis  well  you  offer  it  behind  her  back ; 
The  wish  would  make  else  an  unquiet  house. 

Shy.     [Aside.]     These  be  Christian  husbands.     I  hav»  *35 
a  daughter ; 


Notes. — 115.  speak  me  fair, 
speak  well  of  ine. 

]  P    a  love,  a  dear  friend. 

12],  presently,  soon,  immedi- 
ately. 

I2c  which.  In  the  older  Eng- 
lish which  is  frequently 
used,  as  in  this  instance, 
for  who. 


125.  esteemed  above  thy  life, 
more  than  I  esteem  thy 
life. 

180.  protest,  avow,  declare  earn- 
estly. 

133.  behind  her  back,  unknown 

to  her. 

134.  would    make    else,   would 

otherwise  make. 


ANAl.yai9. — 1 12    cut  me  off     Parst  the  words. 


42  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Would  any  of  the  stock  of  Barrabaa 

Had  been  her  liusband  ratlier  than  a  Christian  ! — 

[Aloud.]     We  trille  time;  I  pray  thee  pursue  sentence. 

For.    A  pound  of  that  same  merchant's  flesh  is  thine ; 
The  court  awards  it,  and  the  law  doth  give  it.  140 

Shy.     Most  rightful  judge  I 

For.     And  you  must  cut  this  flesh  from  ofl"  his  breast; 
The  law  allows  it,  and  the  court  awards  it. 

Shy.    Most  learned  judge  I    A  sentence  I    Come,  prepare. 

J'or.    Tarry  a  little:  there  is  something  else.  145 

This  bond  doth  give  thee  here  no  jot  of  blood ; 
The  words  expressly  are  "  a  pound  of  flesh  "  : 
Take  then  thy  bond,  take  thou  thy  pound  of  flesh ; 
But  in  the  cutting  it,  if  thou  dost  shed 

One  drop  of  Christian  blood,  thy  lands  and  goods  150 

Are,  by  the  laws  of  Venice,  confiscate 
Unto  the  state  of  Venice. 

Gra.     O  upright  judge  I — Mark,  Jew; — O  learned  judge! 

Shy.     Is  that  the  law? 

J'or.  Thyself  shall  see  the  act:  155 

For,  as  thou  urgest  justice,  be  assured 
Tliou  shalt  have  justice,  more  than  thou  desirest. 

G'ra.     O  learned  judge ! — Mark,  Jew : — a  learned  judge  I 

Shy.     I  take  this  ofl!er,  then  :  pay  the  bond  thrice 
And  let  the  Christian  go.  160 

Bas.  Here  is  the  money. 

For.     Soft ! 
The  Jew  shall  have  all  justice;  soft! — no  haste. — 
He  shall  have  nothing  but  the  penalty. 

Gra.     O  Jew  !  an  upright  judge,  a  learned  judge  1  165 

For.    Therefore  prepare  thee  to  cut  ofl"  the  flesh. 
Shed  thou  no  blood,  nor  cut  thou  less  nor  more 


Analysis. — 136.  Give  the  grammatical  constructiou  of  would. 

137.  Give  the  graniiiiatical  conHtniction  of  had  been. 

149.  the  aitling  it.     Why  is  of  omitted  before  ilf 

151.  What  is  the  meaning  of  confiacalef 

162.  Soft.     Wliat  part  of  spoecli  ? 

164.  Wiuit  part  of  tspcech  is  butf 


WILLTAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


43 


Bat  just  a  j.ound  of  flesh.     If  thou  ciitt'st  more 

Or  less  than  a  just  pound,  be  it  so  much 

A.8  makes  it  light  or  heavy  in  the  substance,  170 

Or  the  division  of  the  twentieth  part 

Of  one  poor  scruple — nay,  if  the  scale  do  turn 

But  in  the  estimation  of  a  hair — 

Thou  diest,  and  all  thy  goods  are  confiscate. 

Gra.     A  second  Daniel,  a  Daniel,  Jew  I  17S 

Now,  infidel,  I  have  thee  on  the  hip. 

For.     Why  doth  the  Jew  pause  ?     Take  thy  forfeiture. 

Shy.     Give  me  my  principal,  and  let  me  go. 

Bas.    I  have  it  ready  for  thee;  here  it  is. 

Por.     He  hath  refused  it  in  the  open  court:  180 

He  shall  have  merely  justice  and  his  bond. 

Gra.     A  Daniel,  still  say  I,  a  second  Daniel  I — 
I  thank  thee,  Jew,  for  teaching  me  that  word. 

Shy.    Shall  I  not  have  barely  my  principal  ? 

Por.    Thou  shalt  have  nothing  but  the  forfeiture,  185 

To  be  80  taken  at  thy  peril,  Jew. 

Shy.     Why,  then  the  devil  give  him  good  of  it  1 
I'll  stay  no  longer  question. 

Por.  Tarry,  Jew ; 

The  law  hath  yet  another  hold  on  you.  190 

It  is  enacted  in  the  laws  of  Venice, — 
If  it  be  proved  against  an  alien. 
That  by  direct  or  indirect  attempts 
He  seek  the  life  of  any  citizen. 


Notes. — 168.  but  just,  than  just. 

170.  in  the  substance,  in  the 
weight. 

176.  on  the  hip.  This  expres- 
sion seems  to  be  taken 
from  the  wrestling  arena, 


and  was  used   to  indicate 
the  advantage  one  contest- 
ant had  over  the  other. 
188.  I'll  stay  no   longer  ques- 
tion, I'll  contend  no  long- 


AKA.1.YSIS. — 169.  a  just  'pound.     Give  the  meaning. 
182,  183.  Daniel  and  Jew  are  both  independent;  how  does  their 
constnu:tion  ditfer? 

90.  hcUh  ....  you.     Are  the  two  styles  of  speech  the  same? 


44  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

The  party  'gainst  the  which  he  doth  contrive  19fi 

Shall  seize  one  half  his  goods ;  the  otiier  half 

Comes  to  the  privy  coffer  of  the  state ; 

And  the  ofTender's  life  lies  in  the  mercy 

Of  the  duke  only,  'gainst  all  other  voice. 

In  which  predicament,  1  say,  thou  stand'st :  200 

For  it  appears,  by  manifest  proceeding. 

That  indirectly  and  directly  too 

Thou  hast  contrived  against  the  very  life 

Of  the  defendant;  and  thou  hast  incurred 

The  danger  formerly  by  me  reliearsed.  205 

Down,  therefore,  and  beg  mercy  of  the  duke. 

Gra.    Beg  that  thou  mayat  have  leave  to  hang  thyself; 
And  yet,  thy  wealth  being  forfeit  to  the  state, 
Thou  hast  not  left  the  value  of  a  cord ; 
Therefore  tliou  must  be  hanged  at  the  state's  charge.  210 

Duke.     That  thou  shalt  see  the  difference  of  our  spirit, 
I  pardon  thee  thy  life  before  thou  ask  it: 
For  half  thy  wealth,  it  is  Antonio's; 
The  other  half  comes  to  the  general  state, 
Which  humbleness  may  drive  unto  a  fine.  215 

J'or,     Ay,  for  the  state,  not  for  Antonio. 

iSliy.     Nay,  take  my  life  and  all ;  pardon  not  that: 
You  take  my  house  when  you  do  take  the  prop 
That  doth  sustain  my  house ;  you  take  my  life 
When  you  do  take  the  means  whereby  I  live.  221 

Por.     What  mercy  can  you  render  him,  Antonio? 

Gra.     A  halter  gratis;  nothing  else,  for  God's  sake. 

Ant.     So  please  my  lord  the  duke,  and  all  the  court, 


N>TES. — 197.  privy   coffer,    pri- 
vate treiusurv. 


etc..  Which  humility  may 
chantre  lo  a  due. 


21  5.  Which  humbleness   may,    21G.  the  slate,  the  government. 


Anal"\.^is. — 212.  Ikon  okL     Are  these  words  of  tlie  .same  form* 

213.  hdlftky  wi-nllh,  i\  etc.     Parse  h<df  and  it. 

218.  do  take.     Is  tlii.s  the  ernpliatic  form  of  the  verb? 

223.  80  plcuic  vii/ lord.     Si ij>ply  ellipsis. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


45 


To  quit  the  fine  for  one  half  of  his  goods, 

I  am  content,  so  he  will  let  me  have  225 

The  other  half  in  use,  to  render  it, 

Upon  h:s  death,  unto  the  gentleman 

That  lately  stole  his  daughter : 

Two  things  provided  more,  that,  for  this  favor, 

He  presently  become  a  Christian ;  230 

The  other  that  he  do  record  a  gift, 

Here  in  the  court,  of  all  he  dies  possessed. 

Unto  his  son  Lorenzo  and  his  daughter. 

Duke.     He  shall  do  this,  or  else  I  do  recant 
The  pardon  that  I  late  pronounced  here.  235 

For.    Art  thou  contented,  Jew  ?     What  dost  thou  say  ? 

Shy.  I  am  content. 

For.  Clerk,  draw  a  deed  of  gift. 

Shy.    1  pray  you  give  me  leave  to  go  from  hence ; 
I  am  not  well.    Send  the  deed  after  me,  240 

And  I  will  sign  it. 

Duke.  Get  thee  gone,  but  do  it. 

Ch-a.     In  christening  thou  shalt  have  two  godfathers. 
Had  I  been  judge,  thou  shouldst  have  had  ten  more. 
To  bring  thee  to  the  gallows,  not  tlie  font.     [Exit  Shylock.]  245 

Duke.     Sir,  I  entreat  you  home  with  me  to  dinner. 

Por.     I  humbly  do  desire  your  grace  of  pardon  : 
I  must  away  this  night  toward  Padua, 
And  it  is  meet  I  presently  set  forth. 


Notes. — 224.  to  quit,  to  remit  or 

excuse- 
225.  so,  provided. 
234,  recant,  recall. 
244.   ten  more.     This  refers  to  a 

hangman's  jury  of  twelve. 


246.  entreat,  a-sk  or  invite. 

247.  your  grace  of  pardon,  the 

pardon  of  your  grace. 
249.  meet  I  presently  set  forth, 
proper    tliat   I   set    forth 
soon. 


Analysis. — 226.  What  does  to  render,  etc  modify  ? 

230.  Give  the  meaning  of  presently. 

232.  of  all  he  dies  possessed.    Give  the  meaning. 

245.  Give  the  meaning  of  font. 

248.  mxist  away.     Give  graniiuatical  con«»ruction. 


46 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


Diihe,     I  am  sorry  that  your  leisure  server  you  not. —       "lab 
Antonio,  gratify  this  gentleman, 
for,  in  my  mind,  you  are  much  bound  to  him. 

\Exeunt  Duke  and  his  train.\ 

Bos.    Most  worthy  gentleman,  I  and  my  friend 
Have  by  your  wisdom  been  this  day  acquitted  265 

Of  grievous  penalties ;  in  lieu  whereof. 
Three  thousand  ducats,  due  unto  the  Jew 
We  freely  cope  your  courteous  pains  withal. 

Ant.    And  stand  indebted,  over  and  above, 
Tn  love  and  service  to  you  evermore.  260 

Por.     He  is  well  paid  that  is  well  satisfied ; 
And  I,  delivering  you,  am  satisfied. 
And  therein  do  account  myself  well  paid : 
My  mind  was  never  yet  more  mercenary. 

I  pray  you,  know  me  when  we  meet  again ;  265 

I  wish  you  well,  and  so  I  take  my  leave. 


Noa'ES. — 254.  Notice  that  Bas- 
Banio  mentions  himself 
first,  the  two  having  been 
under  penalty. 

258.  cope,  requite. 


258.  withal,  with. 

25'J.  over  and  above,  in  addi- 
tion thereto. 

264.  more  mercenary,  more  anx- 
ious for  reward  or  pay. 


Analysis. — 261.  Give  the  modifiers  of  he. 
262.  Give  the  conBtruction  of  delivering. 
%3.  Parse  void. 


4.  FRANCIS  BACON, 

1561-1626, 

Sir  Francis  Bacon,  the  great  English  philosopher, 
known  also  as  Lord  Bacon,  was  the  son  of  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon,  lord  keeper  of  the  great  seal.  He  was  born  in 
London,  January  22,  1561.  At  the  age  of  thirteen  he 
entered  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  where  he  completed 
his  studies  when  but  sixteen,  and  it  is  said  that  even  at 
this  age  he  had  already  become  disgusted  with  the 
philosophy  of  Aristotle,  which  then  held  sway  in  all 
English  colleges. 

On  leaving  college  he  went  to  France,  where  he 
spent  three  years,  mostly  at  Poictiers.  The  sudden 
death  of  his  father  in  1579  caused  Bacon  to  return  at 
once  to  England.  He  was  anxious  to  hold  some  posi- 
tion under  the  government  which  would  give  him  leis- 
ure to  devote  to  the  study  of  literature  and  philosophy, 
but  his  uncle.  Lord  Burleigh,  gave  him  neither  encour- 
agement nor  assistance,  and  he  therefore  became  a  stu- 
dent of  law,  in  which  profession  he  afterward  won  great 
distinction,  and  became  the  most  admired  teacher  of 
legal  science  and  tlie  most  learned  advocate  of  his  time. 

He  was  for  some  time  a  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  wliere  he  displayed  great  power  as  an  orator, 
but  his  moral  princii)les  were  all  through  life  uncertain 
and  unreliable.  In  one  of  his  speeches  in  Parliament 
he  greatly  distinguished  himself  as  the  popular  advo- 
cate against  certain  subsidies  asked  by  the  Crown,  but 
when  he  learned  that  the  Queen  was  offended  at  his 
speech,  he  quickly  abandoned   his   position  and  took 

47 


48  STUDIES  JN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

the  otlier  side.  It  was  on  account  of  these  moral  ob- 
liquities that  Pope  characterized  him  as  "  the  wisest, 
brightest,  meanest  of  mankind." 

By  truckling  continuall}'  to  the  favorites  of  the  Crown, 
Bacon  rose  rapidly  in  favor  at  the  court,  and  in  1617  he 
reached  the  height  of  his  ambition,  when  he  was  made 
lord  high  chancellor  of  England  and  Baron  Verulam. 
The  latter  title  was  three  years  later  changed  to  that 
of  Viscount  St.  Albans. 

Bacon's  decisions  while  acting  as  lord  chancellor  were 
Bo  openly  influenced  by  the  Crown,  and  he  became  the 
recipient  of  so  many  presents  and  bribes,  that  Parlia- 
ment was  at  length  compelled  to  interfere.  Twenty- 
three  charges  of  gross  corruption  as  a  judge  were  pre- 
Bented  against  him  by  the  House  of  Lords,  to  which 
he  at  once  plead  guilt}'  in  a  confession,  and  begged  for 
mercy,  saying,  "  I  beseech  your  lordships  to  be  merciful 
to  a  broken  reed."  The  sentence  deprived  him  of  his 
office  as  chancellor,  fined  him  forty  thousand  pounds, 
and  imprisoned  him  in  the  Tower  during  the  King's 
pleasure;  it  also  forbade  him  to  come  within  twelve 
miles  of  the  court.  But  little  of  the  sentence,  however, 
was  ever  enforced  except  that  of  dejjriving  him  of  his 
office.  Five  years  later,  in  1620,  he  died,  and  was 
buried,  at  his  own  request,  by  the  side  of  his  mother 
in  the  church  at  St.  Albans. 

Bacon  was  celebrated  for  his  learning,  but  he  is  espe- 
cially noted  and  honored  as  "  the  father  of  inductive 
philosopliy."  His  greatest  work  is  entitled  Novum  Or- 
yrinum  ("The  New  Instrument"),  in  which  he  ex])ound8 
the  methods  to  be  pursued  in  the  investigation  of  truth 
Dy  induction.  His  most  popular  writings  are  his  Es- 
says. 


r%ANClS  BACON.  49 

CRITICISM  BY  TAINE. 
Bacon's  mode  of  thought  is  b)^  symbols,  not  by  anal- 
ysis ;  instead  of  explaining  his  idea,  he  transposes  ana 
tonslates  it — translates  it  entire,  to  the  smallest  details, 
inclosing  all  in  tlie  majesty  of  a  grand  period  or  in  the 
brevity  of  a  striking  sentence.  Thence  springs  a  style 
of  admirable  richness,  gravity,  and  vigor,  now  solemn 
and  symmetrical,  now  concise  and  piercing,  always 
elaborate  and  fall  of  color.  There  is  notliing  in  Eng- 
lish prose  superior  to  his  diction.  When  he  has  laid 
up  his  store  of  facts,  the  greatest  possible,  on  some  past 
subject,  on  some  entire  province  of  the  mind,  on  the 
whole  anterior  philosophy,  on  the  general  condition 
of  the  sciences,  on  the  power  and  limits  of  the  human 
reason,  he  casts  over  all  this  a  comprehensive  view,  as 
it  were  a  great  net — brings  up  a  universal  idea,  con- 
denses his  idea  into  a  maxim,  and  hands  it  to  us  with 
the  words,  "  Verify  and  profit  by  it." 

FRIENDSHIP. 

Note. — The  following  extract  is  taken  from  one  of  Bacon's  Essays, 
that  on  "  Friendship." 

It  had  been  hard  for  him  that  spake  it  to  have  put 
more  truth  and  untruth  together  in  few  words  than  in 
that  speech,  "  Whosoever  is  delighted  in  solitude  is 
either  a  wild  beast  or  a  god."  For  it  is  most  true 
that  a  natural  and  secret  hatred  and  aversation  towards  Jf 


Note, — 3.  whosoever,  etc.  The  l  Aristotle,  a  Greek  philoeo- 

author  of  this  sentence  was  pher. 


Analysis. — 1.  had  been  hard.     Give  the  meaning  and  di.-i)oee  of 
tlie  verb. 

1,  2.  to  have  put,  etc.     What  is  this  phr.i.'^e  in  apposition  with  7 
5.  aversation  towwd.f.     Modernize. 

4 


50 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLTSn  LITERATURE. 


society  in  any  man  hath  somewhat  of  the  savage  beast , 
hut  it  is  most  untrue  that  it  should  have  any  character 
at  all  of  the  di\'ine  nature,  except  it  proceed,  not  out  of 
a  pleasure  in  solitude,  but  out  of  a  love  and  desire  to 
sequester  a  man's  self  for  a  higher  conversation,  such  10 
as  -S  found  to  have  been  falsely  and  feignedly  in  some 
of  the  heathen — as  Epimenides  the  Candian,  Numa 
the  Roman,  Empedocles  the  Sicilian,  and  Apollonius 
of  Tyana — and  truly  and  really  in  divers  of  the  an- 
cient hermits  and  holy  Fathers  of  the  Church,  15 

But  little  do  men  perceive  what  solitude  is,  and  how 
far  it  extendeth  ;  for  a  crowd  is  not  company,  and  faces 
are  but  a  gallery  of  pictures,  and  talk  but  a  tinkling 
cymbal,  where  there  is  no  love.  The  Latin  adage  meet- 
eth  with  it  a  little,  Magna  civitas,  raagna  solitudo  (a  great  2(1 
city  is  a  great  solitude), — because  in  a  great  town  friends 


Notes. — 10.  sequester,  to  seek 
seclusion, 
conversation,  here  refers  to 
life. 

12.  Epimen'ides,  a  poet  and 
philosopher  of  Crete,  who 
lived  in  the  sixth  or  the 
seventh  century.  Plis  his- 
tory is  mjrthical.  He  is 
said  to  have  fallen  asleep 
in  a  cave,  and  on  awak- 
ing found  ever}'tlung  about 
him  changed. 
Numa,  one  of  the  kings  of 
Borne.  Keigned  b.  c.  715- 
672.  He  desired  his  sub- 
jects to  believe  that  he  re- 


ceiveil  help  in  his  admin- 
istration from  the  nymph 
Egeria. 

13.  Emped^ocIes,aSicilian phil- 
osopher, who  flourished 
about  450  B.  c.  Tradition 
s.ays  he  threw  himself  into 
the  crater  of  Mount  Etna, 
til  at  his  mysterious  disap- 
])earance  might  be  taken 
as  a  proof  of  his  divine 
origin. 
Apollo'nius,  a  follower  of 
IMhagonis,  who  flourished 
during  the  reigns  of  Veik 
p:i.sian  and  Domitian. 

19.  meeteth,  corresponds. 


Analysis. — 8.  Substitute  a  word  for  ercepl. 
16.  But  Utile.    Give  grammatical  construction. 
18,  19.  Point  out  the  figures  in  these  lines. 


FRANCIS  BACON.  51 

ctre  scattered,  so  that  there  is  not  that  fellowsliip,  for  the 
most  part,  which  is  in  less  neighborhoods.  But  we  may 
go  further,  and  affirm  most  truly  that  it  is  a  mere  and 
miserable  solitude  to  want  true  friends,  without  which  2J 
the  world  is  but  a  wilderness ;  and  even  in  this  sense 
also  of  solitude,  whosoever  in  the  frame  of  his  nature 
and  affections  is  unfit  for  friendship,  he  taketh  it  of  the 
beast,  and  not  of  humanity. 

A  principal  fruit  of  friendship  is  the  ease  and  dis-  30 
charge  of  the  fullness  and  swellings  of  the  heart,  which 
passions  of  all  kinds  do  cause  and  induce.     We  know 
diseases  of  stoppings  and  suffocations  are  the  most  dan- 
gerous in  our  body ;  and  it  is  not  much  otherwise  in 
the  mind.     You  may  take  sarza  to  open  the  liver,  steel  35 
to  open  the  spleen,  flowers  of  sulphur  for  the  lungs, 
castoreum  for  the  brain ;   but  no  receipt  openeth  the 
heart  but   a  true   friend,  to   whom   you   may   impart 
griefs,  joys,  fears,  hopes,  suspicions,  counsels,  and  what- 
soever lieth  upon  the  heart  to  oppress  it,  in  a  kind  of  40 
civil  shrift  or  confession. 

It  is  a  strange  thing  to  observe  how  high  a  rate  great 
kings  and  monarchs  do  set  upon  this  fruit  of  friendship 


Notes.— 25.  to  want,  to  lack.       |  29.  of  humanity,  of  human  na- 
27.  solitude,  loneliness.  I  ture. 


Analysis. — 22.  so  that  there.    Parse  these  words. 
24.  Name  the  piiraite  in  appoaition  with  it. 
28.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  he. 

31.  Name  the  antecedent  of  which. 

32.  Give  the  object  of  know. 

35.  Give  the  meaning  of  sarza. 

36,  37.  What  do  the  inHnitive  phrases  in  these  lines  modify?  What 
are  the  objective  modifiers  of  taJcef     Dispose  of  the  two  words  but. 

42.  Name  the  full  phrase  in  apposition  with  the  subject  IL 

43.  do  set.     Notice  the  use  of  the  oKl  form  even  in  prose. 


52 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


whereof  we  speak — so  great  as  they  purchase  it  many 
times  at  the  hazard  of  their  own  safety  and  greatneas.  45 
For  princes,  in  regard  of  the  distance  of  their  fortune 
from  that  of  their  subjects  and  servants,  cannot  gather 
this  fruit  except  (to  make  tlicmselves  capable  thereof) 
they  raise  some  persons  to  be,  as  it  were,  companions 
and  ahnost  equals    to  themselves,  which  many  times  50 
Borteth  to  inconvenience.     The  modern  language*  give 
unto  such  persons  the  name  of  favorites,  or  privadoes, 
as  if  it  were  matter  of  grace  or  conversation ;  but  the 
Roman  name  attaineth  the  true  use  and  cause  thereof, 
naming  them  partireps  curarum  [sharers  in  cares],  for  55 
it  is  that  which  tieth  the  knot.    And  we  see  plainly 
that  this  hath  been  done,  not  by  weak  and  passionate 
princes  only,  but  by  the  wisest  and  most  politic  that 
ever  reigned ;  who  have  oftentimes  joined  to  themselves 
Bome  of  their  servants,   wliom  both   themselves  have  60 
called  friends,  and  allowed  others  likewise  to  call  them 
in  the  same  manner,  using  the  word  which  is  received 

between  private  men 

It  is  not  to  be  forgotten  what  Comines  observeth  of 
his  first  master,  Duke  Charles  the  Hardy — namely,  that  63 
be  would  communicate  his  secrets  with  none,  and  least 
of  all  those  secrets  which  troubled  him  most.     Where- 


NoTts. — 57.    passionate,    Kenti- 

niental. 
6o.  Charles  the  Hardy,  Charles 


(lie  Bold,  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, and  the  rival  of 
Louis  XI. 


Analysis. — J4.  ko  great  cut.    Modernize. 
4K-0I.  \\'rite  this  sentence  in  modern  English. 
5J    sorlelh  here  means  "leadelh." 
60-63.  Write  in  modern  English. 

64.  //  VI,  etc.     I'oinl  out  the  phrase  in  a[iiK>sition  with  It. 
66.  cMnmuniatle  his  accrels  with.     What  'la  the  i)reseut  form  of  or- 
presrion  ? 


rUANCJS  BACON.  53 

up<5n  he  goeth  on,  and  saith  that  towards  his  latter  time 
that  closeness  did  impair  and  a  little  perish  his  under- 
standing. Surely,  Comines  mought  have  made  the  7B 
same  judgment  also,  if  it  had  pleased  him,  of  his  sec- 
ond master,  Louis  the  Eleventh,  whose  closeness  was 
indeed  his  tormentor.  The  parable  of  Pythagoras  is 
dark,  but  true,  "Cbr  ne  edito" — eat  not  the  heart.  Cer- 
tainly if  a  man  would  give  it  a  hard  phrase,  those  that  75 
want  friends  to  open  themselves  unto  are  cannibals  of 
their  own  hearts.  But  one  thing  is  most  admirable 
(wherewith  I  will  conc.lu<le  this  first  fruit  of  friendship), 
which  is,  that  this  conununicating  of  a  man's  self  to  his 
friend  works  two  contrary  effects,  for  it  redoubleth  joys,  80 
and  cutteth  griefs  in  halves.  For  there  is  no  man  that 
imparteth  his  joys  to  his  friend  but  he  joyeth  the  more, 
and  no  man  that  imparteth  his  griefs  to  his  friend  but 
he  grieveth  the  less.  So  that  it  is,  in  truth,  of  operation 
upon  a  man's  mind  of  like  virtue  as  the  alchemists  use  85 
to  attribute  to  their  stone  for  man's  body,  tliat  it  work- 
eth  all  contrary  eflects,  but  still  to  the  good  and  benefit 
of  nature.  But  yet  without  praying  in  aid  of  alchem- 
ists, there  is  a  manifest  image  of  this  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  nature ;  for,  in  bodies,  union  strengtheneth  90 
and  cherisheth  any  natural  action,  and,  on  the  other 
side,  weakeneth  and  dulleth  any  \nolent  impression. 
And  even  so  is  it  of  minds. 

The  second  fruit  of  friends] lip  is  healthful  and  sov- 


NoTES.— 69.  perish,  enfeehle.        I  70.  mought,    the    old    form    c»f 
70.  Comines,  a  French  historiim.  I  **  might." 


Analysis. — 71.  if  it  hod  plecmed.    Give  the  mode  of  the  verb. 
80.  *-edoubleth.     Give  the  raoflem  form. 

88.  praying  in  aid,  calling  in  the  aid  or  help. 

89.  image  is  here  used  for  resemblance. 
y3.  And  eiH-.n  so  is  it  of  tninds.     Rewrite. 


54  STUDIES  IX  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

ereign  for  the  understanding,  as  the  first  is  for  the  affec-  96 
tions.     For  friendship  maketh  indeed  a  fair  day  in  the 
affections  from  storm  and  tempests,  but  it  maketh  day- 
light in  the  understanding,  out  of  darkness  and  confu- 
sion of  thoughts.     Neither  is  this  to  be  understood  only 
of  faithful  counsel,  which  a  man  receiveth  from   his  IOC 
friend ;  but  before  you  come  to  that,  certain  it  is  that 
whosoever  hath  his  mind  fraught  with  many  thoughts, 
his  wita  and  understanding  do  clarify  and  break  up  in 
the  communicating  and  discoursing  with  another :   he 
tosseth  his  thoughts  more  easily ;  he  marshaleth  them  105 
more  orderly ;  he  seeth  how  they  look  when  they  are 
turned  into  words ;  finally,  he  waxeth  wiser  than  him- 
self, and  that  more  by  an  hour's  discourse  than  by  a 
day's  meditation.     It  was  well  said  by  Themistocles  to 
the  king  of  Persia  "that  speech  was  like  cloth  of  Arras  110 
opened  and  put  abroad,  whereby  the  imagery  doth  ap- 
pear in  figure ;  whereby  in  thoughts  they  lie  but  as  in 


NoTE-s. — 109.  Themis 'tocles,  a 
celebrated  Athenian  states- 
man and  general  ^514-449 


110.  cloth  of  Arras,  named  from 
Arras,  a  town  in  France; 
the  word  is  equivalent  to 


B.C.).  I  tapestry 


Analysis. — 96-99.  For  friendship,  etc.  Explain  the  sentence  and 
name  the  rhetorical  fipciires. 

101.  certain  it  i«  that,  etc  Parse  it.  Also  give  the  construction  of 
the  clause  introduced  by  that. 

103.  do  darij'y,  etc.     What  fipv're? 

103,  104.  in  the  communicating,  etc.  Is  this  correct  according  to 
present  usage? 

104,  105.  he  tosseth.     What  fij,Mire? 

105,  he  viarshaleth  them.     Name  tlie  figure. 
107.  Give  the  meaning  of  wajteth. 

109, 110.  It  ...  .  "that  speech,"  etc.  Explain  the  grammatical  con- 
ftniction. 

110.  like  cloth      What  is  tlie  construction? 

112.  they  lie      Wh.at  is  the  antecedent  of  iheyf     Dispose  of  buL 


FRANCIS  BACON. 


55 


packs."  Neither  is  this  second  fruit  of  friendship,  in 
opening  the  understanding,  restrained  only  to  such 
friends  as  are  able  to  give  a  man  counsel  (they,  indeed,  111 
are  best) ;  but  even  without  that  a  man  learneth  of  him- 
self, and  bringeth  his  own  thoughts  to  light,  and  whet- 
teth  his  wits  as  against  a  stone,  which  itself  cuts  not. 
In  a  word,  a  man  were  better  relate  himself  to  a  statua 
or  picture  than  to  suffer  his  thoughts  to  pass  in  smother.  120 

Add  now,  to  make  this  second  fruit  of  friendship  com- 
plete, that  other  point,  wliich  lieth  more  open,  and  fall- 
eth  within  vulgar  observation — which  is,  faithful  counsel 
from  a  friend.  Heraclitus  saith  well,  in  one  of  his  enig- 
mas, "  Dry  light  is  ever  the  best."  And  certain  it  is  that  125 
the  light  that  a  man  receiveth  by  counsel  from  another 
is  drier  and  i3urer  than  that  which  cometh  from  his  own 
understanding  and  judgment,  which  is  ever  infused  and 
drenched  in  his  afi'ections  and  customs :  so  as  there  is  as 
much  difference  between  the  counsel  that  a  friend  giveth  130 
and  that  a  man  giveth  himself  as  there  is  between  the 
counsel  of  a  friend  and  of  a  flatterer ;  for  there  is  no 


Notes. — 119.  statua,  statue. 
120.  to  pass  in  smother,  to  re- 
main 811  pp  reused. 

123.  vulgar,  common, 
counsel,  advice. 

124.  Heraclitus,  a  naturalist  of 


Ephesus,  called  the 
"  Weeping  Philosopher." 

125.  Dry  light— that  is,  intellect 
unclouded  by  pa-ssion. 

129.  so  as  there  is,  so  that  there 

IS, 


Anai-ysis. — 114.  restrained.     Substitute  a  word. 

115.  are  able.     What  is  the  subject  ? 

116.  but  even,  etc.     What  is  the  grammatical  construction? 
117, 118.  Point  out  the  figures  in  the  line. 

119,  120.  to  a  statua  or  picture,  etc.     Is  the  expression  correct  7 
121.  to  make,  etc.     What  does  the  phrase  modify  ? 
125.  ce)-tain  it  Is  that,  etc.     Notice  the  construction. 
131    t'uU      In  wliat  caae  is  this  word? 


56  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

such  flatterer  as  is  a  man's  self,  and  there  is  no  such 
remedy  against  flattery  of  a  man's  self  as  the  liberty  of 
a  friend.  Counsel  is  of  two  sorts :  the  one  concerning  133 
manners,  the  other  concerning  business.  For  the  first, 
tlie  best  preservative  to  keep  the  mind  in  health  is  the 
(fiithful  admonition  of  a  friend.  The  calling  of  a  man's 
self  to  a  strict  account  is  a  medicine  sometime  too  pierc- 
ing and  corrosive,  reading  good  books  of  morality  is  a  IJO 
little  flat  and  dead,  obser\ing  our  faults  in  others  is 
sometimes  unproper  for  our  case ;  but  the  best  receipt 
(best,  I  say,  to  work,  and  best  to  take)  is  the  athnoni- 
tion  of  a  friend. 

It  is  a  strange  thing  to  behokl  what  gross  errors  and  145 
extreme  absurdities  many  (especially  of  the  greater  sort) 
do  commit  for  want  of  a  friend  to  tell  them  of  them,  to 
tlie  great  damage  both  of  their  fame  and  fortune ;  for,  as 
St.  James  saith,  they  are  as  men  "that  look  sometimes 
into  a  glass,  and  presently  forget  their  own  shape  and  150 
favor."     As  for  business,  a  man  may  think,  if  he  will, 
that  two  eyes  see  no  more  than  one;  or  that  a  gamester 
seeth  always  more  than  a  looker-on  ;  or  that  a  man  in 
anger  is  as  wise  as  he  that  hath  said  over  the  four  and 
twenty  letters ;  or  that  a  musket  may  be  sliot  off  as  well  156 
upon  the  arm  as  upon  a  rest;  and  such  otlier  fond  and 
high  imaginations  to  think  himself  all  in  all ;  but  wht»n 


Notes. — 151.  favor,  ai)|pc'arance.  |  156.  fond,  foolish. 


Analypl'^. — 133.  fw.     Give  the  grammatical  r-onstniction. 

135   136.  the  one  concernimj  vianners.     Give  the  construction. 

139.  sometime.     Ciive  the  modern  form. 

142.  unproper.     Give  the  modern  form. 

145.  It ....  to  behold,  etc.     (tive  the  pranimatical  construction 

147.  them  of  them.     What  Ih  the  antecedent  of  each  themf 

148.  buth  of  their  fame  (und  fortune.     Correct. 

154.  155.  To  what  doc.s/wtr  and  turnly  letters  refer? 


FRANCIS  BACON  57 

all  is  done,  the  help  of  good  counsel  is  that  which  set- 

teth  business  straight 

After  these  two  noble  fruits  of  friendship  (peaoe  in  the  160 
affections  and  support  of  the  judgment)  followeth  the 
last  fruit,  which  is,  like  the  pomegranate,  full  of  many- 
kernels  ;  I  mean  aid,  and  bearing  a  part  in  all  actions 
and  occasions.  Here  the  best  way  to  represent  to  life  the 
manifold  use  of  friendship  is  to  cast  and  see  how  many  165 
things  there  are  which  a  man  cannot  do  himself;   and 
then  it  will  appear  that  it  was  a  sparing  speech  of  the 
ancients  to  say  "  that  a  friend  is  another  himself,"  for 
that  a  friend  is  far  more  than  himself.     Men  have  their 
time,  and   die   many  times   in  desire   of  some  things  170 
which  they  principally  take   to   heart — the  bestowing 
of  a  child,  the  finishing  of  a  work,  or  the  like.     If  a 
man  have  a  true  friend,  he  may  rest  almost  secure  that 
the  care  of  those  things  will  continue  after  him ;  so  that 
a  man  hath,  as  it  were,  two  lives  in  his  desires.     A  man  175 
hath  a  body,  and  that  body  is  confined  to  a  place ;  but 
where  friendsliip  is,  all  offices  of  life  are,  as  it  were, 
granted  to  him  and  his   deputy,  for  he  may  exercise 
them  by  his  friend.     How  many  things  are  there  which 
a  man  cannot,  with  any  face  or  comeliness,  say  or  do  180 
himself!     A  man  can  scarce  allege  his  own  merits  with 
modesty,  much  less  extol  them;  a  man  cannot  some- 
times brook  to  supplicate  or  beg,  and  a  number  of  the 


An  vlysis. — 162.  like  the  pomegranate.     What  figure? 

165.  to  cast.     What  ia  the  uieaiiing? 

167    a  sparing  speech;  tliat  is,  a  moderiite  speech. 

163.  himself.     Give  grammatical  construction. 

168,  169.  for  that.     What  is  tlie  ineauiug? 

170    and  die  many  time.%  etc.     Reconstruct. 

171.  the  bellowing,  the  disposal. 

177.  tw  it  were,     (jive  the  graiumalical  construction. 

182,  183.  cannot  soinetivica  brook  to  supplicate.     Give  the  meaning. 


58  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

like;  but  all  tliese  things  are  graceful  in  a  friend's  mouth, 
which  are  blushing  in  a  man's  own.  So,  again,  a  man's  185 
j)ersou  hath  many  proper  relations,  which  he  cannot  put 
ofi'.  A  man  cannot  speak  to  his  son  but  as  a  father; 
to  his  wife,  but  as  a  husband;  to  his  enemy,  but  upon 
tenns:  whereas  a  friend  may  speak  as  the  case  requires, 
and  not  as  it  sorteth  with  the  person.  But  to  enumerate  190 
these  things  were  endless.  I  have  given  the  rule :  where 
a  man  cannot  fitly  play  his  own  part,  if  he  have  not  a 
friend  he  may  quit  the  stage. 


Notes. — 185.  which  are  blush- 
ing, which  cause  one  to 
bhish ;  fit  to  make  one 
blush. 


185.  a    man's    own    person,   a 

man's  own  body 
18G.  proper,  peculiar  to  one-fe  self 
190.  sorteth,  suits. 


Anat.ysis. — 187.  but  as  a  father.  Give  the  construction  of  6it<,  cw, 
and  father. 

191.  were.    What  is  the  mode  ? 

190-193.  I  have  given,  etc.  "What  rhetorical  figure  here?  Give  the 
construction  of  the  whole  sentence. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS. 

1.   DRAMATIC    POETS. 

Ben  Jonson  (1574-1637). — Celebrated  as  a  dramatist.  The 
friend  of  Shakespeare.  Author  of  Every  Man  in  his  Humor, 
(hf aline,  Tlte  Alcheviist,  and  other  dramas. 

Christopher  Marlowe  (1503-1593). — The  greatest  dramatist 
Dcl'ore  Shakespeare.  Educated  at  Cambridge.  Author  of  sev- 
eral plays  in  blank  verse — Tambourlaine  the  Oreat,  Dr.  Faui- 
tiiit,  The  Jew  of  Malta,  etc. 

Francis  Beaumont  (1586-1615)  and  John  Fletcher  (1576- 
1C25). — The  authors  of  fifty-two  tragedies  and  comedies,  mostly 
written  in  joint  authorship.  Their  works  were  more  popular 
In  their  day  tlian  were  Shakespeare's.  Among  their  plays  are 
Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  Rule  a  Wife  and  Have  a  Wife,  Wit  wiihottt 
Money,  etc. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  69 

Philip  Massinger  (1584-1640). — Author  of  a  number  of  plays, 
one  of  which,  A  Neiv  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts,  is  still  acted. 

John  Ford  (1586-1639). — A  melancholy  dramatist.  Author 
of  a  number  of  deep  tragedies — The  Broken  Hearty  Lovers  SaC' 
rifice,  etc. 

2.  NON-DRAMATIC   POETS. 

Thomas  Sacicville  (1536-1608).— Earl  of  Dorset.  Author  ot 
the  Mirror  for  Magistrates  and  the  Stwy  of  the  Duhe  of  Buch 
ingham. 

Robert  Southwell  (1560-1595).— Author  of  St.  Peter's  Com- 
plaint and  other  poems. 

Samuel  Daniel  (1562-1619). — Known  as  "  well-languaged 
Daniel."  Author  of  Musophilus  and  A  History  of  the  Wars  be- 
tween the  Houses  of  York  and  Lancaster. 

Michael  Drayton  (156;^-lfi31).— Poet-laureate  in  1626.  Author 
of  Polyolbion,  The  Shepherds  Garland,  and  other  poems. 

George  Herbert  (1593-1632).— Often  called  "Holy  George 
Herbert."  Wrote  2'he  Temple  and  a  number  of  other  sacred 
poems. 

3.   PROSE-WRITERS. 

Roger  Ascham  (1515-1568).— Teacher  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and 
Lady  Jane  Grey.  A  graduate  of  Cambridge.  Author  of  Tox- 
ophilus,  in  the  preface  of  which  he  apologizes  for  writing  in 
English.     His  best  work  is  The  Schoolmaster. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney  (1554-1586). — A  gallant  soldier  and  a  chi- 
valric  gentleman.  Educated  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  Author 
rf  a  romance  Arcadia,  The  Defense,  of  Poesie,  and  many  beauti- 
ful sonnets. 

Richard  Hooker  (1553-1600).— A  celebrated  English  divine. 
Wrote  Latos  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  the  first  book  of  which  has 
;een  pronounced  by  Hallam  to  be  at  this  day  "  one  of  the  mas- 
terpieces of  English  eloquence." 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh  (1552-1618). — An  accomplished  scholar 
fliid  soldier.  Author  of  a  History  of  the  World,  Narrative  of  a 
Cruise  to  Guiana,  and  a  number  of  poems  of  merit.  He  was 
executed  by  order  of  King  James  I, 

Robert  Burton  (1578-1640).— Rector  of  Segrave.  Author  of 
a  quaint  and  witty  book,  The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  by  Democ- 
ritus  Junior. 


III. 

AGE    OF   MILTOK. 

162S-1660. 

Keiqn  of  Ciiaeles  I.  ANij  Protectorate  of  Cromwell. 

This  era  was  characterized  by  continual  strife  and 
controversy,  both  pohtical  and  rehgious.  The  trial  and 
execution  of  Charle*  I.,  the  civil  war  between  the  Cav- 
aliers and  the  Roundheads,  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  Pro- 
tectorate of  Cromwell, — all  tended  to  prevent  the  pro- 
duction of  any  literature  except  that  of  a  controversial 
character.  A  few  great  authors,  however,  came  to  the 
surface,  whose  excellent  works  have  added  largely  to 
the  wealth  of  our  literature.  Among  these  the  most 
noted  was  John  Milton,  and  with  liim  may  be  named 
such  W(;rthies  as  Izaak  W^dtou,  Thomas  Fuller,  and 
Jeremy  Tayh)r. 


5.  JOHN   MILTON, 

1608-1674. 

JonN  Milton,  one  of  the  greatest  of  English  poeta, 
was  liorn  in  London,  December  9, 1608.  His  fatlicr  was 
a  scrivener  by  profession  and  a  man  of  fine  musical  taste 
— a  talent  which  his  son  John  inherited,  and  which, 
under  the  instruction  of  his  father,  made  him  an  ac- 
complished organist. 

It  is  said  that  Milton  began  to  write  verse  before  he 
was  eleven  years  of  age,  and  at  the  age  of  twelve  he 

fiO 


JOHN  MILTON.  61 

often  studied  late  into  the  night — thus,  with  the  imper- 
fect light  then  used,  so  injuring  his  eyesight  that  at  the 
age  of  forty-six  he  became  partially  blind.  He  entered 
the  University  at  Cambridge  in  the  year  1625.  Here, 
on  account  of  his  personal  beauty  and  delicate  taste,  he 
was  nicknamed  the  "  Lady  of  Cambridge."  He  spent 
Beven  years  at  the  University,  when  he  took  his  master's 
degree.  Leaving  Cambridge  in  1632,  he  went  to  Horton, 
where  he  spent  five  years  in  leisure  and  study.  It  was 
during  this  time  that  he  wrote  some  of  his  finest  poemh, 
among  them  U Allegro  and  II  Penseroso  in  1632,  Comus, 
which  appeared  in  1634,  and  Li/ddas,  written  in  1637. 

In  1638  he  began  a  tour  of  Continental  Europe,  visit- 
ing France  and  Italy,  where  his  strong  letters  of  recom- 
mendation and  his  great  culture  made  his  society  court- 
ed by  the  most  brilliant  Italian  wits.  His  stay  abroad 
continued  only  fifteen  montlis,  for  Milton  was  a  Puritan, 
and  when  the  Thirty  Years'  War  began  he  hastened 
home  and  espoused  the  cause  of  the  people  against 
the  prelates  and  tlie  Royalists. 

Milton,  on  his  return  to  England  in  1639,  took  a 
house  in  London  and  began  teaching  the  children  of 
his  sister,  Mrs.  Philips.  His  success  as  a  teacher  soon 
ittracted  other  pupils,  and  he  continued  this  work  for 
^ght  years.  In  1643  he  married  Mary  Powell,  but  she 
jeft  him  at  the  end  of  a  month,  and,  though  frequently 
Bolicited  to  return,  she  refused.  In  about  a  year,  how 
ever,  when  she  found  Milton  advocating  the  right  ol 
divorce,  the  intervention  of  friends  secured  a  reeoncil- 
istion,  and  she  returned. 

Miltjn  held  the  jxKst  of  Latin  secretary  under  the  Pro- 
tectorate of  Cromw(41,  and  during  this  time  he  wrote  his 
political  works.  When  Charles  II.  was  placed  on  the 
throne  the  post  of  Latin  secretary  was  again  tendered 
to  Milton,  though  lie  was  one  of  the  strongest  opponenia 


62  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

of  loyalty,  but  he  refused  to  accept  the  ])osition,  and  re- 
tired to  private  life,  where  he  again  devoted  himself  to 
poetry.  It  was  during  this  time  that  he  wrote  his  mas- 
terpiece, Paradise  Lost,  which  was  completed  in  1665  and 
published  in  1667.  The  manuscript  of  this  poem  is  said 
to  have  been  sold  for  twenty-eight  pounds. 

The  later  years  of  Milton's  life  were  spent  in  gloom  and 
disappointment.  The  cause  for  which  he  had  written  so 
Bi)iritedly  and  contended  so  persistently  was  lost  by  the 
fall  of  Cromwell  and  the  accession  of  Charles  II.  to  the 
throne;  and,  to  complete  the  measure  of  his  infirmities, 
the  great  poet  became  wholly  blind  in  the  year  1662. 
His  death  occurred  in  November,  1674,  when  he  was 
buried  by  the  side  of  his  father,  though  a  monument 
was  erected  to  his  memory  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

His  greatest  prose  work  was  styled  Areopagltica,  a 
plea  for  the  freedom  of  the  press.  In  addition  to  the 
poems  named,  he  wrote  also  Paradise  Regained,  which 
did  not,  however,  rank  in  any  sense  with  his  master- 
piece, Paradise  Lost. 

CRITICISM  BY  JOHN  RICHARD  GREEN. 
The  whole  genius  of  Milton  expressed  itself  in  the 
Paradise  Lost.  The  romance,  the  gorgeous  fancy,  the 
daring  imagination  which  he  shared  with  the  Eliza- 
bethan poets,  the  large  but  ordered  beauty  of  form 
which  he  had  drunk  in  from  the  literature  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  the  sublimity  of  conception,  tiie  loftiness 
of  phrase  which  he  owed  to  the  Bible,  blended  in  this 
Htory  "  of  man's  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit  of  that 
forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  taste  brought  death  mto 
the  world  and  all  our  woe."  It  is  only  when  we  review 
the  strangely-mingled  elements  which  make  up  the 
poem  that  we  realize  the  genius  which  fused  them  into 
8uch  a  perfect  whole.     The  meagre  outline  of  the  He- 


JOHy  MILTON. 


63 


brew  legend  is  lost  in  the  splendor  and  music  of  Mil- 
ton's verse.  The  stern  idealism  of  Geneva  is  clothed  in 
the  gorgeous  robes  of  the  Renaissance.  If  we  miss  some- 
thing of  tlie  free  play  of  Spenser's  fancy,  and  yet  more 
of  the  imaginative  delight  in  their  own  creations  which 
gives  so  exquisite  a  life  to  the  poetry  of  tlie  early  dram- 
atists, we  tind  in  place  of  these  the  noblest  example 
which  our  literature  affords  of  the  ordered  majesty  of 
classic  form. 


LYCIDAS. 

Note. — Tn  this  poem  Milton  bewails  the  loss  of  a  friend,  Edward 
King,  a  native  of  Ireland,  to  whom  he  wns  warmly  attached,  and 
who  had  been  his  schoolmate  at  Cambridge.  Having  graduated, 
King  was  qualifying  himself  for  the  ministry,  but  in  a  sea-voyage 
from  Chester  the  ship  was  wrecked  on  the  Welsh  coast,  and  King 
was  drowned.  He  was  noted  for  his  piety,  brilliant  scholarship, 
and  gentleness  of  character. 

Yet  once  more,  O  ye  laurels,  and  once  more, 

Ye  myrtles  brown,  with  ivy  never  sere, 

I  come  to  pluck  your  berries  harsh  and  crude, 

And  with  forced  fingers  rude 

Shatter  your  leaves  before  the  mellowing  year,  i 

Bitter  constraint,  and  sad  occasion  dear, 


Notes. — 3.    harsh    and    crude, 

unripe. 
5.  shatter,  scatter. 


5.  mellowing    year,    mellowing 

time  of  year, 

6.  constraint,  necessity. 


Analybis. — 1.  O  ye  laurels.    Give  the  ease  of  ye  and  laurels. 

2.   Ye  myrtles.     Give  the  case  of  ye  and  myrtles. 
What  does  the  word  sere  modify? 

4  forced  fingers  rude.     Notice  the  arrangement — adjective,  noun, 
and  mljective — a  favorite  one  with  Milton. 

>.  mellowinff  year.     What  figure?     Parse  s/ia/<er. 

1-5.  The  whole  sentence  seems  to  indicate  that  Milton  feels  him- 
self comj)elled  to  write  under  constraint  and  unprepared. 

6.  sad  occasion  dear.     Notice  the  arrangement. 


44 


64  STUDIES  rN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Compels  me  to  disturb  your  season  due: 

For  Lycidas  is  dead,  dead  ore  his  prime, 

Young  Lycidas,  and  hatli  not  left  his  peer. 

Who  would  not  sing  for  Lycidas?  he  knew  1C 

Himself  to  sing,  and  build  tiie  lofty  rliyme. 

He  must  not  float  upon  his  watery  bier 

Unwept,  and  welter  to  the  parching  wind, 

Without  tlie  meed  of  some  melodious  tear. 

Begin,  then.  Sisters  of  tlie  sacred  well  15 

That  from  beneath  the  seat  of  Jove  doth  spring; 
Begin,  and  somewhat  loudly  sweep  the  string: 
Hence,  with  denial  vain,  and  coy  excuse. 
So  may  some  gentle  Muse 

With  lucky  words  favor  my  destined  urn ;  20 

And  as  he  passes  turn, 
And  bid  fair  peace  be  to  my  sable  shroud. 

For  we  were  nursed  upon  the  selfsame  hill ; 
Fed  the  same  flock,  by  fountain,  shade,  and  rill ; 


Notes. — 9.  peer,  equal. 

10,  11.  he  knew  himself  to  sing, 

he    himself    knew    how    to 

sing. 

12.  water}'  bier,  the  water  which 

bears  him  up. 

13.  welter,  roll, 
parching,  blistering. 

15.  Sisters,  the  Miises. 

16.  Jove,  .Jupiter. 
18.  coy,  shy. 


20.  urn.  This  refers  to  the  Gre- 
cian and  the  Roman  method 
of  disposing  of  tlie  ashes  of 
the  dead. 

23.  selfsame  hill,  Cambridge. 

24.  fed    the    same    flock,    etc. 

This  refers  to  their  close 
companionship.  The  poet 
represents  himself  and  his 
friend  as  shei)licr(l8,  thus 
carrying  out  the  allegory. 


Analysis.— 7.  rompok    What  is  the  subject?   Does  tlie  verb  agree 
only  with  the  nearest  nominative  or  with  the  whole  line? 
9.    Young  Lycidux.     In  wliat  case? 
10.   Who  would  not,  etc.     Explain  the  meaning. 
14.  mefd,  tribute.     What  figure? 

16.  from  bciieath.     Give  grannnatical  construction. 

17.  siring,  the  lyre.     What  figure? 

18.  Hence.     What  part  of  speech? 
ercu.se.     In  what  case? 

22.  bid.     Give  m(xle.     be.  Give  mode. 


JOHN  MILTON. 


65 


Together  both,  ere  the  high  lawns  appeared  2fi 

Under  the  opening  eyelids  of  the  morn, 

We  drove  afield,  and  both  together  heard 

What  time  the  gray-fly  winds  her  sultry  horn, 

Battening  our  flocks  with  the  fresh  dews  of  night, 

Oft  till  the  star  that  rose  at  evening  bright  30 

Toward  heaven's  descent  had  sloped  his  westering  wheeL 

Meanwhile,  the  rural  ditties  were  not  mute, 

Tempered  to  the  oaten  flute ; 

Rough  Satyrs  danced,  and  Fauns  with  cloven  heel 

From  the  glad  sound  would  not  be  absent  long,  35 

And  old  Damoetas  loved  to  hear  our  song. 

But  oh  1  the  heavy  change,  now  thou  art  gone, 
Now  thou  art  gone,  and  never  must  return ! 
Thee,  shepherd,  the  woods  and  desert  caves. 
With  wild  thyme  and  the  gadding  vine  o'ergrown,  40 

And  all  their  echoes  mourn. 
The  willows,  and  the  hazel-copses  green, 
Shall  now  no  more  be  seen 


Notes.— 27.  afield,  to  the  field. 
a  was  formerly  used  as  a 
preposition. 
28.  what  time,  the  time  when, 
gray-fly,  the  trumpet-fly. 
sultry  horn,  the  buzzing  of 
its   wings   in   the   heat   of 
noon. 


29.  battening,  fattening. 

flocks,  thoughts. 
33.  tempered,  modified. 

oaten  flute,  a  flute  made  of 
an  oaten  straw. 
3G.  Damcetas,  a  common  name 
applied  to  a  herdsman  oi 
a  rustic 


Analysis.— 26.  What  figure  in  the  line? 
80  31.  Name  the  figure  in  these  lines. 
34.  What  were  Sdlyrs  and  FauTisf 

37.  Bui  oh  t  etc.     Here  begins  an  apostrophe.     Define  Apostrophe 
M  a  figure  of  rhetoric. 
37.  art  gone.     Modernize, 

39.  shepherd.     Inwhatciise?     thee,  Ike  woods,  etc.     Write  the  ien- 
tence  in  prose.     Give  the  case  of  thee. 

40.  To  what  does  the  participial  phrase  o'ergrown,  etc.  relate? 

41.  And  all  their  echoes.     Give  the  ca.se  of  echoes. 

5 


66 


SThnlES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


Fanning  their  joyous  leaves  to  thy  soft  lays. 

As  killing  as  the  canker  to  the  rose,  41 

Or  taint-worm  to  the  weanling  herds  that  graze, 

Or  frost  to  flowers  that  their  gay  wardrobe  wear 

When  first  the  white-thorn  blows ; 

Such,  Lycidas,  thy  loss  to  shepherd's  ear. 

Where  were  ye,  Nymphs,  when  the  remorseless  deep         50 
Closed  o'er  the  head  of  your  loved  Lycidas? 
For  neither  were  ye  playing  on  the  steep 
Where  your  old  bards,  the  famous  Druids,  lie, 
Nor  on  the  shaggy  top  of  Mona  high, 

Nor  yet  where  Deva  spreads  her  wizard  stream.  66 

Ay  me  1     I  fondly  dream, 
"  Had  ye  been  there ;"  for  what  could  that  have  done? 
What  could  the  Muse  herself  that  Orpheus  bore, 
The  Muse  herself  for  her  enchanting  son, 
Whom  universal  Nature  did  lament,  60 


Notes.  —  45.  canker,  canker- 
worm. 

48.  white-thorn  blows,  haw- 
thorn blooms. 

50.  Nymphs,  Muses. 

52.  steep,  mountain. 

53.  Druids,  magicians. 

54.  Mona,  the  Isle  of  Anglesey. 

55.  Deva,  the  river  Dee. 

56.  Ay  me  !     Likely,  "  Ah  me !" 
fondly,  foolishly. 

57.  '•  Had  ye  been  there  " — that 

is,  I  fondly  dream  when  1 
think,  "  Iliul  ye  been  there." 


58.  Muse,  Calliope,  the  mother 
of  Orpheus. 
Orpheus,  "  the  unparalleled 
sinijer  and  musician,  the 
power  of  whose  harp  or 
lyre  drew  wild  beasts,  and 
even  rocks  and  trees,  to  fol- 
low him." 

G0-<)3.  Orpheus,  having  failed  to 
recover  his  wile  Eurydice 
from  the  lower  world,  con- 
tinued to  grieve  for  her. 
This,  the  legend  says,  of- 
fended   the  Thraciau   wo- 


Analybts. — 44.  Fanning,  etc.     What  does  this  phrase  modify? 

47.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

46-49.  Kewrite  in  prose. 

50.  remoraelesH  deep.     Whatligure? 

66.  Ay  me  I     Dispose  of  me. 

59.  for  Iter  tnchantiwj  son.     What  does  the  [)liraHe  iiuxlifyT 


JOHN  MILTON. 


67 


When,  by  the  rout  that  made  the  hideous  roar, 
His  gory  visage  down  the  stream  was  sent, 
Down  the  swift  Hebrus  to  the  Lesbian  shore  I 

Alas  I  what  boots  it  with  uncessant  care 
To  tend  the  homely,  sligJited  shepherd's  trade,  M 

And  strictly  meditate  the  thankless  Muse? 
Were  it  not  better  done  as  others  use, 
To  sport  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade, 
Or  with  the  tangles  of  Neserea's  hair  ? 

Fame  is  the  spur  that  the  clear  spirit  doth  raise  70 

(That  last  infirmity  of  noble  mind) 
To  scorn  delights,  and  live  laborious  days ; 
But  the  fair  guerdon  when  we  hope  to  find. 
And  think  to  burst  out  into  sudden  blaze. 
Comes  the  blind  Fury  with  the  abhorred  shears,  75 

And  slits  the  thin-spun  life.     "  But  not  the  praise," 
Phoebus  replied,  and  touched  my  trembling  ears ; 


men,  and  in  one  of  their 
drunken  orgies  they  seized 
him  and  tore  him  to  pieces. 
The  fragments  of  his  body 
were  gathered  and  buried 
at  the  foot  of  Mount  Olym- 
pus, but  his  head  was  cast 
into  the  river  Hebrus,  and 
it  floated  out  to  the  Lsland 
of  Lesbos,  now  Mitylene,  in 
the  iEgean  Sea. 
64.  what  boots  it,  what  profits  it. 
uncessant,  incessant. 


65,  66.  To  tend  ....  thankless 
Muse  ?  to  practise  poetry, 
that  brings  no  return  or 
recompense. 

67.  use,   are   accustomed   or  are 

wont  to  do. 

68,  69.  Amaryllis   and   Neaerea 

are  girls  named  in  Virgi] 
;is  beloved  by  shepherds. 

70.  clear,  noble. 

73.  guerdon,  reward. 

77.  Phoebus,  Apollo,  the  god  ol 
proi)hecy  and  song. 


Analysis. — 67.    Were  it,  etc.     What  is  the  grammatical  construo 
tion? 

71.  That  Last  in fii-mity.     What  is  the  antecedent? 

72.  To  scorn,  etc.     What  does  the  phrase  modify  ? 

73.  Transpose  the  line. 

75,  76.  Comes  the  blind,  etc.    Transpose  this  sentence.    Name  the 
lubject. 


68 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


"  Fame  is  no  plant  that  grows  on  mortal  soil, 
Nor  in  the  glistering  foil 

Set  off  to  the  world,  nor  in  broad  rumor  lies ;  W 

But  lives  and  spreads  aloft  by  those  i>ure  eyes, 
And  perfect  witness  of  all-judging  Jove; 
As  he  pronounces  lastly  on  each  deed, 
Of  so  much  fame  in  Heaven  expect  thy  meed." 

0  fountain  Arethuse,  and  thou  honored  flood,  85 

Smooth-sliding  Miucius,  crowned  with  vocal  reeda, 
That  strain  I  heard  was  of  a  higher  mood ; 
But  now  my  oat  proceeds, 
And  listens  to  the  herald  of  the  sea, 

Then  came  in  Neptune's  plea ;  90 

He  asked  the  waves,  and  asked  the  felon  winds, 
"  What  hard  mishap  hath  doomed  this  gentle  swain?' 
And  questioned  every  gust  of  rugged  wings 
That  blows  from  off  each  beaked  promontory 
They  knew  not  of  his  story ;  96 

And  sage  Hippotades  their  answer  brings. 
That  not  a  blast  was  from  his  dungeon  strayed ; 
The  air  was  calm,  and  on  the  level  brine 
Sleek  Panope  with  all  her  sisters  played. 


Notes. — 79.  glistering,  glitter- 
ing. 

83.  lastly,  finally. 

85.  Arethuse,  a  fountain  of  Or- 
tygia,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
harbor  of  Syracuse,  Sicily. 


90.  Neptune's  plea,  tlie  plea  in 

Neptune's  behalf. 
96.  Hippot'ades,  ^olus,  the  god 

of  the  winds. 
99.  Panope,  a  sea-nynipli,  one  of 

fifty  si-sters. 


80,  Parse  set  off.    Give  the  moilifier  of  lies. 

62.   Who  was  Jm'e  f 

84.  Give  the  construction  of  expect. 

91    92.  What  ia  the  object  of  asked  f     Parse  wares  iwd  winds. 

9.3    Name  the  complete  object  of  questuined. 

93  91.   What  figure? 

97.  TlwJ,  not  a  blast,  etc.  What  does  the  clause  modify?  woi 
tiraijed.  Give  the  modem  form,  his  dungeon.  To  what  does  thia 
refer? 

99.  Name  the  nxxlifierH  of  pUiyeA. 


JOHN  MILTON. 


69 


It  •was  that  fatal  and  pprfidious  bark,  100 

Built  in  the  eclipse,  and  rigged  with  curses  dark, 
That  sunk  so  low  that  sacred  head  of  thine. 

Next  Camus,  reverend  sire,  went  footing  slow, 
His  mantle  hairy  and  his  bonnet  sedge 

Inwrought  with  figures  dim,  and  on  the  edge  105 

Like  to  that  sanguine  flower  inscribed  with  woe. 
"Ah I  who  ha,th  reft,"  quoth  he,  "my  dearest  pledgef 

Last  came,  and  last  did  go. 
The  pilot  of  the  Galilean  lake ; 

Two  massj'  keys  he  bore  of  metals  twain —  110 

The  golden  opes,  the  iron  shuts  amain — 
He  shook  his  mitred  locks,  and  stern  bespake : 
"  How  well  could  I  have  spared  for  thee,  young  swain, 
Enow  of  such  as,  for  their  bellies'  sake, 
Creep,  and  intrude,  and  climb  into  the  fold,  115 


Notes. — 101, Built  in  the  eclipse, 
referring  to  the  supersti- 
tion that  an  eclipse  is  an 
evil  omen, 
rigged,  etc. ;  that  is,  with 
curstaj  clinging  to  the  rig- 
ging- 

103.  Camus,   god   of   the    river 
Cam,  on  which  Cambridge 
is  located, 
slow,  slowly. 

104-107.  These  lines  refer  to  the 
peculiarities  of  tlie  river- 
sponge  found  (loating  on 
the  Cam,  and  the  mark- 


ings   of    the    river-sedge 
growing  along  this  stream. 

106.  sanguine  flower,  the  hya- 

cinth.    Look  for  the  his- 
tory of  this  word. 

107.  who  hath   reft,   who   hath 

snatched  away. 

109.  The  pilot,  St.  Peter. 

110.  metals  twain,  two  kinds  of 

metal. 
112.  mitred,  covered  with  a  mitre 

or  liood. 
bespake,  spake.     Usetl  tran 

sitively. 
114.  enow,  enough. 


Analysis. — 100,  102.  What  clause  is  in  appositiDn  with  barkt 
103.  What  figure? 

107.  Name  the  complete  object  of  quoth. 

108.  last.  .  .  .  la.ft.     Wliat  parts  of  speech? 
111.  niiiain,  forcibly.     Wbat  part  of  speech? 


70 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


120 


Of  other  care  they  little  reckoiiins:;  make 

Than  how  to  scramble  at  the  shearer's  feast, 

And  shove  away  the  worthy  bidden  guest. 

Blind  mouths  I  that  scarce  themselves  know  how  to  hold 

A  sheep-hook,  or  have  learned  aught  else  the  least 

That  to  the  faithful  herdsman's  art  belongs  1 

What  recks  it  them  ?    AVhat  need  they  ?    They  are  sped  ; 

And,  when  they  list,  their  lean  and  flashy  songs 

Grate  on  their  scrannel  pipes  of  wretched  straw: 

The  hungry  sheep  look  up,  and  are  not  fed,  125 

But,  swollen  with  wind  and  the  rank  mist  they  draw, 

Rot  inwardly,  and  foul  contagion  spread ; 

Besides  what  the  grim  wolf  witli  privy  paw 

Daily  devours  apace,  and  nothing  said. 

But  thai  two-handed  engine  at  tlie  door 

Stands  ready  to  smite  once,  and  smite  no  more. 

Return,  Alpheus;  the  dread  voice  is  past 
That  shrunk  thy  streams :  return,  Sicilian  Muse, 
And  call  the  vales,  and  bid  them  hither  cast 
Their  liella  and  flowerets  of  a  thousand  hues. 
Ye  valleys  low,  where  the  mild  whispers  use 
Of  jihados  and  wanton  winds,  and  gushing  brooks ; 


130 


135 


NoTFis.— 122.  What  recks  it 
them  ?  Wlial  does  it  con- 
cern them  ? 

122.  They  are  sped,  they  arc 
d*«palclied. 


123.  flashy,  8ho>v7. 

124.  scrannel,  likely  scrawny. 
128.  privy  paw,  private  paw. 
135.  bells,  corollas. 

]3G.  use,  dwell. 


Anaia'sis. — llf>-118.     Tnui.spose  these  three  lines. 
J 19.  mnullut.     What  ca.se? 

125.  look  lip.     Give  grammatical  constniotion. 

126.  eiKollen  with  wind.     What  does  the  j>lir:ii>e  modify? 

128.  DispoHe  of  Brnide.'<  what. 

129.  a/wce,  speedily.     What  part  of  speech? 
\^2.  Alphmsi.     What  case?     Who  was  AlpheuH? 
136.  niH'l  whiitpcrH.     How  mo<lified  ? 

What  subjects  has  unef 


JOHN  MILTON. 


71 


On  whose  fresh  lap  the  swart  star  sparely  looks ; 

Throw  thither  all  your  quaint  enamelled  eyes, 

That  on  the  green  turf  suck  the  honeyed  showers,  140 

And  purple  all  the  ground  with  vernal  flowers. 

Bring  the  rathe  primrose  that  forsaken  dies, 

The  tufted  crow-toe,  and  pale  jessamine, 

The  white  ])ink,  and  the  pansy  freaked  with  jet, 

The  glowing  violet,  145 

The  musk-rose,  and  the  well-attireJ  woodbine, 

With  cowslips  wan  that  hang  the  pensive  head, 

And  eveiy  flower  that  sad  embroidery  wears : 

Bid  amaranthus  all  his  beauty  shed. 

And  dafiadillies  fill  their  cup  with  tears,  150 

To  strew  the  laureate  hearse  where  Lycid  lies. 

For  so,  to  interpose  a  little  ease, 

Let  our  frail  thoughts  dally  with  false  surmise. 

Ay  me!  whilst  thee  the  shores  and  sounding  seas 
Wash  far  away,  where'er  thy  bones  are  hurled ;  155 

Whether  beyond  the  stormy  Hebrides, 
Where  thou  perhaps  uuder  the  whelming  tide 
Visit'st  the  bottom  of  the  monstrous  world  ; 
Or  whether  thou,  to  our  moist  vows  denied, 
Sleep'st  by  the  fable  of  Bellerus  old,  160 


Notes. — 138.  swart  star,  Sirius, 
the  do£i-star. 
sparely,  seldom. 
142.  rathe,   early ;    the   compar- 
ative of  this  old  form  is 
rather,  meaning,  formerly, 
sooner  or  earlier. 


150.  daffadillies,  the  narcissus. 

151.  laureate,  having  the  poet's 

laurel  on  it. 

153.  dally  with  false  surmise, 
trifle  with  the  false  sup- 
position. 

159.  moist  vows,  tearful  prayers, 


Analysis. — 138.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  whose* 
139.  The  meaning  of  qunint  and  enamelled  in  this  line? 

Name  the  figure  in  this  line. 

Bring.     Name  all  the  objective  modifiers. 

With  coivslips.     Grainiiiatical  coiistrnction  ? 

Grammatical  construction  of  shed  f 

To  strew,  etc.     What  does  tlie  pliraae  modify? 


14C 
142 

147, 
149 
151, 


72 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


Where  the  great  vision  of  the  guarded  mount 
Looks  toward  Namaucos,  and  Bayona's  hold : 
Look  homeward,  Aiigel,  now,  and  melt  with  ruth ; 
And,  O  ye  dolphins,  waft  tlie  hapless  youth. 

Weep  no  more,  woeful  shepherds,  weep  no  more ;  1 6fl 

For  Lycidas  your  sorrow  is  not  dead, 
Sunk  though  he  be  beneath  the  watery  floor. 
So  sinks  the  day-star  in  the  ocean  bed ; 
And  yet  anori  repairs  his  drooping  head. 

And  tricks  liis  beams,  and  with  new-spangled  ore  170 

Flames  in  the  forehead  of  the  morning  sky ; 
So  Lycidas  sunk  low,  but  mounted  high. 
Through  the  dear  might  of  Him  that  walked  the  waves; 
Where,  other  groves  and  other  streains  along. 
With  nectar  pure  his  oozy  locks  he  haves,  175 

And  hears  the  unexpressive  nuptial  song, 
In  the  blest  kingdoms  meek  of  joy  and  love, 
There  entertain  him  all  the  saints  above, 
In  solemn  troops  and  sweet  societies. 
That  sing,  and  singing  in  their  glory  move,  ISO 


NoTKS. — 162.     Namancos     and 
Bayona,  towns  in  Galicia. 
hold,  stronghold. 
163.  ruth,  pity. 

168.  the  day-star,  the  sun. 

169.  repairs,  refreshes. 


170.  tricks,  dresses. 

175.  laves,  bathes, 
oozy,  miry. 

176.  unexpressive, 

hie. 

177.  meek,  peacefid. 


mexpressi- 


An  A  LYSIS. — 163.  This  line  is  usually  considered  an  apostrophe  to 
Michael  tlie  archangel. 

166.  your  sorrow.     Grammatical  construction  ? 

167.  Give  the  modiliers  of  the  verb  in  this  line. 
169.  Parse  anon. 

171.  Figures  in  this  line? 
173.  Who  is  referred  to  in  this  line? 

174-177.  Name  the  subject  of  the  sentence.     Kewrite  the  sentence 
in  prose. 

177.  blest  kingdomn  meek.     Notice  the  arrangement. 

178.  Grammatical  construction  of  above  f 


JOHN  MILTON. 


73 


And  wipe  the  tears  for  ever  from  their  eyes. 
Now,  Lycidas,  the  shepherds  weep  no  more ; 
Henceforth  thou  art  the  Genius  of  the  shore, 
In  tliy  large  recompense,  and  shalt  be  good 
To  all  that  wander  in  that  perilous  flood. 

Thus  sang  the  uncouth  swain  to  the  oaks  and  rills, 
While  the  still  morn  went  out  with  sandals  gray; 
He  touched  the  tender  stops  of  various  quills. 
With  eager  thought  warbling  his  Doric  l^y : 
And  now  the  sun  liad  stretched  out  all  the  hills. 
And  now  was  dropped  into  the  western  bay. 
At  last  he  rose,  and  twitched  his  mantle  blue; 
To-morrow  to  fresh  woods  and  pastures  new. 


185 


190 


Notes. — 184.  In  thy  large  re- 
compense, in  the  recom- 
pense for  thy  sufierings. 

186.  uncouth,  unknown. 


188    stops,  the  small  holes  in  the 

flute. 
189.  Doric   lay,   his    shepherd's 

Bong. 


Analysis. — 182.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

187.  Point  out  the  figure  in  this  line? 

190.  Notice  the  beautiful  thought  here.     What  is  the  figure? 

192.  he  rose.     Antecedent  of  he  f 


MAY  MORNING. 

Now  the  bright  morning  star,  day's  harbinger, 
Comes  dancing  from  the  east,  and  leads  with  her 
The  flowery  May,  who  from  her  green  lap  throws 
The  yellow  cowslip  and  the  pale  primrose. 
Hail  bounteous  May!  that  doth  in.spire 
Mirth  and  youth  and  warm  desire  ; 
Woods  and  groves  are  of  thy  dressing. 
Hill  and  dale  doth  boast  thy  blessing. 
Thus  we  salute  thee  with  our  early  song, 
And  welcome  thee,  and  wish  thee  long. 


74  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS. 

POETS. 

Edmund  Waller  (1605-1687).— Poet  and  politician.  First  a 
Rejmblicau,  then  a  Royalist.  Author  of  many  sliort  poems, 
most  of  which  consist  of  elegant  and  polished  verses,  and  but 
little  else. 

Abraham  Cowley  (1618-1667).— One  of  the  most  popular 
poets  of  his  day.  Began  writing  poetry  when  a  boy  ;  publish- 
ed a  volume  when  only  thirteen  years  of  age.  Author  of  Pin- 
daric Odes,  Davideis,  and  Love  Verses.  His  Ode  to  Anacreon  is 
one  of  his  best. 

Robert  Herrick  (1591-1674).— One  of  the  sweetest  lyric 
writers  of  his  time.  Educated  at  Cambridge.  Author  of 
Cherry  Ripe,  To  Daffodils,  Gather  ye  Rosebuds  while  ye  May,  aud 
many  other  beautiful  songs. 

Sir  John  Suckling  (1609-1642?).-  -A  Cavalier  poet.  A  writer 
of  some  beautiful  lyric  poems,  his  Ballad  of  a  Wedding  being 
one  of  his  best. 

PK08E-WRITER8. 

Thomas  Kobbes  (1588-1679).— An  eminent  writer  on  politico 
and  moral  philosophy.  Author  of  Leviathan  and  IVanslatums 
of  Homer  in  Verse. 

Izaak  Walton  (1593-1683).— A  delightful  writer,  who  kept  a 
bnen-draper's  store  to  the  age  of  fifty.  His  best  work  is  The 
Compleat  Angler,  a  classic  still  much  admired.  Author  also  of 
the  Lives  of  Walton,  Hooker,  Herbert,  and  others,  all  written  in 
a  beautiful  and  simple  style. 

Thomas  Fuller  (1608-1661). — Known  as  "quaint  old  Thomas 
Fuller."  A  witty  English  divine.  ?Alucated  at  Queen's  Col- 
lege, Cambridge.  Author  of  T/ie  Worthies  of  England,  CJiurcU 
History  of  Britain,  and  other  works. 

Jeremy  Taylor  (1613-1667). — The  greatest  theological  writer 
of  the  English  Church  in  his  day.  Ivlucatcd  at  Cambridge.  A 
brilliant  writer  of  essays.  His  most  pojjular  work  is  Holy  Liv- 
ing and  Holy  Dying.  He  was  author  aLjo  of  a  treatise  On  ifte 
Liberty  of  IVophesying. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS.  75 

Edward  Hyde,  Eakl  of  Clarexdox  (1608-1674). — An  emi- 
nent Roj^alist  aud  author.  His  greatest  work  is  his  History 
qJ  the  RebeAIion. 

Sir  Thomas  Browne  (1605-1682). — An  eccentric  but  power- 
ful writer.  Was  a  practicing  physician.  His  greatest  works 
are  Religion  of  a  Physician,  Vulgar  Errors,  aud  Hydriofaphi-a, 
a  treatise  on  urn-burial. 

Algernon  Sidney  (1621-1683).  —  A  celebrated  Republican 
writer.  Son  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester.  Was  beheaded  in  1683. 
His  cliief  work  is  Discourse.^  on  Government. 

Dr.  Jsaac  Barrow  (1630-1677). — A  noted  mathematician  and 
writer.  A  professor  at  Cambridge.  Author  of  a  number  of 
mathematical  works  in  Latin.  Author  also  of  a  number  of 
theological  treatises. 

Samuel  Pepys  (1632-1703). — Son  of  a  London  tailor.  Became 
secretary  to  the  Admiralty.  Author  of  an  amusing  Diary,  in 
which  the  life  of  the  times  is  depicted  in  the  minutest  details. 

Dr.  Richard  Baxter  (1615-1691). — A  great  Puritan  divine. 
Author  of  Tlie  Saints'  Everlasting  Rest,  A  Narrative  of  My  Ovm 
Life  and  Times,  and  other  works,  numbering  altogether  one  bun' 
dred  and  sixty-eight. 


IV. 

AGE    OF   THE  EESTOEATION. 

1660-1700. 

Heigxs  of  Citari  es  II.,  James  TI.,  "William  and  Mary. 

Not  only  the  social  life  of  the  nation,  but  also  the 
literature  of  this  age,  was  in  marked  contrast  to  that  of 
tlie  age  of  Milton.  The  Protectorate  of  Cromwell  having 
been  overthrown,  and  Charles  II.  having  been  restored 
to  the  tlirone,  all  the  vices  and  fashions  of  the  gay  Cav- 
aliers were  made  to  take  the  place  of  the  austerity  of 
their  Puritan  predecessors.  English  morals  and  English 
literature  both  were  debauched.  Much  of  the  literature 
of  this  age,  particularly  that  of  a  dramatic  character,  was 
debased,  and  made  to  pander  to  the  licentious  taste  of 
the  age.  An  utter  absence  of  modesty  and  shame  cha- 
racterized the  mode  of  life  of  the  ruling  class,  and  many 
of  the  writings  of  the  period  were  accordingly  tainted 
with  this  moral  j)oison. 


r>.  JOHN   DRYDEN, 

1631-1700. 


JoH\  Dryden,  the  most  eminent  poet  of  the  Restora- 
tion, was  born  of  Puritan  parents  on  the  i)th  of  August, 
1631.  He  received  his  preliminary  education  at  the 
famous  school  of  Dr.  Busby  at  Westminster,  and  then 
became  a  student  at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  where 
be  graduated   without  special    distinction    four  years 

76 


JOHN  DRYDEN.  77 

later.  On  the  death  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  Diyden  wrote 
a  glowing  eulogium  on  that  hero,  but  two  years  later 
he  ?hanged  his  politics,  became  a  Royalist,  and  wrote  a 
pjem  celebrating  the  restoration  of  Charles  II.  to  the 
tlirone. 

His  income  from  his  father's  estate  being  but  sixty 
pounds  a  year,  Dryden  was  compelled  to  resort  to  lit- 
erature as  a  profession.  Books  then  had  but  a  limited 
sale,  and  much  the  most  profitable  writing  was  that  of 
a  dramatic  or  theatrical  character.  He  therefore  de- 
voted himself  to  the  writing  of  plays,  entering  into  a 
contract  to  supply  three  dramas  each  year.  He  thus 
produced  play  after  play  in  rapid  succession,  but  all, 
it  is  said,  were  tainted  with  the  licentiousness  of  that 
shameless  age. 

Dryden's  dramatic  career  began  about  the  year  1662, 
and  a  year  later  he  married  Lady  Elizabeth  Howard, 
daughter  of  the  earl  of  Berkshire ;  but  the  union  did 
not  prove  a  happy  one,  his  wife  having  been  of  a  quer- 
ulous disposition. 

His  first  great  poem,  the  Annus  Mirahilis,  appeared  in 
1667.  It  was  designed  to  commemorate  the  terrible 
calamities  of  the  preceding  year — the  Fire  of  London, 
the  Plague,  and  the  war  with  the  Dutch.  The  poem 
was  made  the  vehicle  for  eulogizing  the  King,  and  Dry- 
den was  made  poet-laureate  and  historiographer  to  the 
King,  with  a  salary  of  one  hundred  pounds  a  year  and 
a  tierce  of  wine  worth  an  additional  hundred  pounds. 

In  1681  the  first  part  of  his  great  work,  Absalom  and 
Aehitophel,  appeared,  in  which  he  attacks  the  most  noted 
men  of  the  corrupt  English  court,  assigning  to  thera 
names  borrowed  from  the  Old  Testament. 

In  1684  he  produced  Reliylo  Laid,  a  vigorous  defense 
of  the  English  Church  against  tlie  Dissenters,  and  in 
1687  he  changed  his  religion  again,  becomintr  a  Roman 


78  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Catholic.  In  defense  of  his  course  he  produced  another 
poem,  The  Hind  and  the  Panther,  in  which  he  represents 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church  as  a  "  milk-white  hind," 
and  the  Cliurch  of  England  as  a  "  panther,  the  fairest 
of  the  spotted  kind." 

Wlien  William  and  Mary  came  to  the  throne  Dryden 
lost  his  laureateship,  and  he  again  resorted  to  his  pen 
for  a  living.  His  translation  of  Virgil  is  said  to  have 
brought  him  twelve  hundred  pounds. 

Dryden's  finest  lyric  is  his  Ode  for  St.  Uecilid's  Day, 
generally  known  as  Alexander's  Feast.  Though  much 
criticised,  it  still  remains  a  favorite;  and  deservedly 
so,  as  no  poem  better  illustrates  the  flexibility  of  the 
language  we  speak. 

Dryden's  old  age  was  not  happy.  He  was  poor,  and 
his  work  was  by  no  means  to  his  taste,  for  he  was  com- 
pelled to  write  as  a  task  to  earn  his  daily  bread.  He 
was  a  rapid  composer,  and  seldom  pruned  or  rewrote, 
and  few  writers  have  approached  him  in  the  amount 
of  work  prepared. 

CRITICISM  BY  SIR  WALTER  SOOTT. 

The  distinguishing  characteristic  of  Dryden's  genius 
seems  to  have  been  the  power  of  reasoning,  and  of  ex- 
pressing the  result  in  appropriate  language.  This  may 
seem  slender  praise,  yet  these  were  the  talents  which  led 
Hacon  into  the  recesses  of  Philosophy  and  conducted 
Newton  to  tlie  cabinet  of  Nature.  The  j)rose  works 
of  Dryden  bear  repeated  evidence  to  his  philosophical 
powers.  Indeed,  his  early  and  poetical  studies  gave 
his  researches  somewhat  too  much  of  a  metai)hysical 
character ;  and  it  was  a  consequence  of  liis  mental  acute- 
ness  that  his  dramatic  personages  often  philosophized  or 
reasoned  when  they  ought  only  to  have  felt.     The  more 


JOHN  DRYDEN.  79 

lofty,  the  fiercer,  the  more  ambitious,  feelings  seem  also 
to  have  been  his  favorite  studies.  With  this  power  Dry- 
den's  poetry  was  gifted  in  a  degree  surpassing  in  mod- 
ulated harmony  that  of  all  who  had  preceded  him,  and 
inferior  to  none  that  has  since  written  English  verse. 
He  first  showed  that  the  English  language  was  capa- 
ble of  uniting  smoothness  and  strength.  The  hob- 
bling verses  of  his  predecessors  were  abandoned  even 
by  the  lowest  versifiers ;  and  by  the  force  of  his  pre- 
cept and  example  the  meanest  lampooners  of  the  yeai 
seventeen  hundred  wrote  smoother  lines  than  Donne 
and  Cowley,  the  chief  poets  of  the  earlier  half  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  What  was  said  of  Rome  adorned 
by  Augustus  has  been,  by  Johnson,  applied  to  English 
poetry  improved  by  Dry  den — that  he  found  it  of  brick, 
and  left  it  of  marble. 

ALEXANDER'S  FEAST. 
Note. — This  ode  is  pronounced  by  Macaulay  to  be  Dryden's 
greatest  work.  He  calls  it  "the  masterpiece  of  the  second  cla.s8  of 
poetry,"  and  says  it  "ranks  just  below  the  great  models  of  the  first." 
Dryden  himself  was  very  proud  of  it,  and  is  said  to  have  claimed 
that  "  a  nobler  ode  never  was  produced,  nor  ever  will  be."  The  poem 
was  written  for  an  English  musical  society  which  annually  cele- 
brated the  festival  of  St.  Cecilia,  the  patron  of  music,  and  w;is  com- 
posed in  a  single  night,  the  author  claiming  that  he  was  so  struck 
with  the  subject  that  he  could  not  leave  it  until  he  had  completed 
the  poem. 

I. 
'TwAS  at  the  royal  feaat,  for  Persia  won 
By  Philip's  warlike  son : 


Notes. — 2.  Philip's  warlike  son,  I  Philip,    king    of    Macedon 

Alexander  the  Great,  sou  of  I  (b.  c.  35&-323). 


Analysis. — 1,  2    "Iheas  at,  etc.     Parse  'Twos.     Transpose  to  the 
natural  order. 


80  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Aloft  in  awful  state 
The  godlike  hero  sate 

On  his  imperial  throne ;  8 

Hi&  valiant  peers  were  placed  around, 
Their  brows  with  roses  and  with  myrtles  bound 

(So  should  desert  in  arms  be  crowned) : 
The  lovely  Thais  by  his  side, 

Sate  like  a  blooming  Eastern  bride,  10 

In  flower  of  youth  and  beauty's  pride. 
Happy,  happy,  happy  pair ! 
None  but  the  brave, 
None  but  the  brave, 
None  but  the  brave  deserves  the  fair.  16 

II. 
Timotheus,  placed  on  high 

Amid  the  tuneful  choir. 

With  flying  fingers  touched  the  lyre: 
The  trembling  notes  ascend  the  sky. 

And  heavenly  joys  ins])ire.  20 

The  song  began  from  Jove, 
Who  left  his  blissful  seats  above. 


Notes. — 9.  Thais,  an  Athenian  I  IG.  Timo'theus,     a     celebrated 
beauty  and  wit  who  accom-  Greek  musician, 

panied  Alexander  in  his  in-  i  21.  Jove,   Jupiter,    the    son    of 
vasion  of  Persia.  I  Saturn. 


Analysis. — 3,  4.  Write  in  natural  order. 
4.  sate.     Give  the  meaning.     Name  tlie  modifiers  of  sate. 

7.  Their  brows  ....  bound.     What  kind  of  plira.se?     Parse  brom. 

8.  Give  tlie  construction  of  the  parontlietical  wurds. 
10.  like  and  bride.  Give  construi-tion.  What  figure? 
16.  none.     Singular  or  phind  ? 

13-15.  What  figure? 

16.  Timotheus,  placed,  etc.    In  wluit  case  is  Timolheusi    What  doei 
Ihe  participial  phrase  modify? 

on  high.     Give  graniniatical  construction. 
20.  jnyx  i7is])irc.     Give  ^'rainniaticid  constniction. 
22.  blisafid  seals.     Wl»at  is  the  present  form  7 


JOHN  DRYDEl^. 


81 


(Sach  is  the  power  of  mighty  love  I) 
A  dragon's  fiery  form  belied  the  god : 
Sublime  on  radiant  spheres  he  rode. 
***** 

The  listening  crowd  admire  the  lofty  sound, 

A  present  deity  I  they  shout  around ; 

A  present  deity  I  the  vaulted  roofs  rebound. 

With  ravished  ears 

The  monarch  hears, 

Assumes  the  god. 

Affects  to  nod, 
And  seems  to  shake  the  spheres. 

III. 
The  praise  of  Bacchus  then  the  sweet  musician  sung, — 
Of  Bacchus  ever  fair  and  ever  young : 
The  jolly  god  in  triumph  comes ; 
Sound  the  trumpets,  beat  the  drums ; 
Flushed  with  a  purple  grace, 
He  shows  his  honest  face : 
Now  give  the  hautboys  breath.    He  comes  1  he  comes  1 


25 


80 


35 


40 


Notes.— 24.  A  dragon's  fiery 
form,  etc. — that  is,  Jupiter 
appeared  in  the  form  of  a 
dragon. 

27.  deity,  a  god. 


32.  Affects  to  nod,  signifies  hia 

will  by  nodding. 
34.  Bacchus,  the  god  of  wine; 

son  of  Jupiter. 
39.  honest,  handsome. 


Analysis.— 23.  such.    What  part  of  speech?     Dispose  cf  the 
parenthetical  sentence. 
24.  Dispose  of  belied. 

27.  around.     What  part  of  speech? 

28.  Is  the  verb  in  the  line  transitive  or  intransitive? 

29.  With  ravished  ears.    An  adjunct  of  what? 

34.  Bunfj.     Modernize. 

35.  ever  fair,  etc.     Why  is  ever  repeated? 

38.  Jlushed  with  a  purple  grace.     What  kind  of  phrase,  and  what 
does  it  modify? 
40.  hautboys.    Give  meaninjr. 
6 


82  STUDIES  JN  ENGLISH  LITEEATUJIK 

Bacchus,  ever  fair  and  young, 

Drinking  joys  did  first  ordain ; 
Bacchus'  blessings  are  a  treasure, 
Drinking  is  the  soldier's  pleasure : 

Rich  the  treasure,  48 

Sweet  the  pleasure, 
Sweet  is  pleasure  after  pain. 

IV. 

Soothed  with  the  sound,  the  king  grew  vain ; 
Fought  all  his  battles  o'er  again ; 
And  thrice  he  routed  all  his  foes,  and  thrice  he  slew  the  slain.  60 
The  master  saw  the  madness  rise, 
His  glowing  cheeks,  his  ardent  eyes ; 
And,  while  he  Heaven  and  Earth  defied, 
Changed  his  hand,  and  checked  his  pride. 

He  chose  a  mournful  Muse,  55 

Soft  pity  to  infuse : 
He  sung  Darius,  great  and  good, 

By  too  severe  a  fate. 


Note. — 57.  Darius  ;  that  is,  Da- 1  the  time  of  Alexander's  in- 

rius  IIL,  king  of  Persia  at  |  vasion. 


Analysis. — 41.  ever  fair,  etc.    Why  is  ei'cr'not  repeated? 
41,  42.  Name  the  subject,  the  jiredicate,  and  the  object  in  this  sen- 
tence.    Rewrite  the  sentence  in  prose. 
45,  46.  Supply  the  ellipsis.    What  is  the  order  of  these  two  lines? 

48.  Soothed,  etc.     W^hat  kind  of  phnise?     What  does  it  modify? 

49.  Explain  the  contraction  o'er.     Dispose  of  o'er  and  again. 

50.  thrice  he  Blew  the  slain.     What  figure  ?     Dispose  of  thrice  and 
thrice 

51.  sau  the  madness  ri.ie.     Parse  me. 
What  is  the  object  of  saw* 

5.3,  54.  To  what  does  he  refer?     To  what  the  first  hi.if    To  what 
ibe  second  his  f    What  fault  in  tlie  lines  ? 
55.  Erjjlain  the  figure  in  the  line. 
68.  By  loo  severe,  etc     This  is  on  adjunct  of  what? 


JOHN  DRY  DEN. 


83 


Fallen,  fallen,  fallen,  fallen, 

Fallen  from  his  high  estate,  60 

And  weltering  in  his  blood  ; 
Deserted,  at  his  utmost  need, 
By  those  his  former  bounty  fed; 
On  the  bare  earth  exposed  he  lies. 
With  not  a  friend  to  close  his  eyes.  65 

With  downcast  looks  the  joyless  victor  sate, 
Eevolving  in  his  altered  soul 

The  various  turns  of  chance  below ; 
And,  now  and  then,  a  sigh  he  stole, 

And  tears  began  to  flow.  70 


V. 

The  mighty  master  smiled  to  see 
That  love  was  in  the  next  degree ; 
'Twas  but  a  kindred  sound  to  move, 
For  pity  melts  the  mind  to  love. 
Softly  sweet,  in  Lydian  measures, 
Soon  he  soothed  his  soul  to  pleasurea. 


75 


Notes. — 61.  weltering  in  his 
blood.  This  refers  to  the 
murder  of  Darius  by  one 
of  bis  satraps. 

67.  Revolving,  reflecting  on. 

72.  in  the  next  degree ;  that  is, 
came  next  to  i)ity. 


75.  Lydian  measures.  Of  the 
dve  styles  of  Grecian  music, 
the  Lydian  was  soft  and 
voluptuous ;  the  Phrygian, 
religious;  the  Doric,  mar- 
tial ;  the  Ionic,  gay ;  and 
the  JLolic,  simple. 


Analysis. — 59,  60.  Fallen,  fallen,  etc.     What  figure? 

64,  65.  Name  tiie  modifier  of  he. 

62-05.  Analyze  the  sentence. 

66.  joyless  victor.     Who  is  meant  ? 

68.  I)isy)Ose  of  below. 

69.  Dispose  of  now  and  then.    Give  the  meaning  of  a  sigh  he  atoie, 
7J..  mighty  ma.<iter.    To  whom  does  this  refer? 

73.  '  Twas.    Write  in  full.     Explain  the  use  of  the  apostrophe  here. 
Parse  hut. 
7i.  What  figure  in  the  line? 
76.  he  ...  .  his.    To  what  docs  each  refer? 


84  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE, 

War,  he  sung,  is  toil  and  trouble; 
Honor  but  an  empty  bubble ; 

Never  ending,  Btill  beginning, 
Fighting  still,  and  still  destroying:  80 

If  the  world  be  worth  thy  winning, 
Think,  oh,  think  it  worth  enjoying! 
Lovely  Thais  sits  beside  thee. 
Take  the  good  the  gods  provide  thee. 
The  many  rend  the  skies  with  loud  applause ;  86 

So  Love  was  crowned,  but  Music  won  the  cause. 
The  prince,  unable  to  conceal  his  pain, 
Gazed  on  the  fair 
Who  caused  his  care. 
And  sighed  and  looked,  sighed  and  looked,  90 

Sighed  and  looked,  and  sighed  again. 
At  length,  with  love  and  wine  at  once  oppressed, 
The  vanquished  victor  sunk  upon  her  breast. 

VI. 

Now  strike  the  golden  lyre  again  ; 

A  louder  yet,  and  yet  a  louder  strain.  W 

Break  his  bands  of  sleep  asunder, 
And  rouse  him  like  a  rattling  peal  of  thunder. 
Hark  !  hark  !  the  horrid  sound 
Has  raised  up  his  head. 


Analysis. — 77.  What  is  tlie  object  of  mngf 

78.  What  fisjure  in  tlie  line?     Parse  b\it  and  bubble. 

7it,  80.   I>isp()8e  of  the  participles  in  the  line. 

81.  worth  is  here  used  iis  an  adjective.     Winnimj  is  in  the  ()l)je«li»« 
case  after  a  preposition  nnderstood. 

82.  umih  enjoyinr/.     Dispose  of  both  words. 
85.  Explain  the  figure  in  the  line. 

8d   Point  out  and  name  the  figure  in  this  line. 

92  9S    Name  the  modifiers  of  xnclor. 

95.  Dif'pose  of  the  words  yrt  and  yet. 

9t)    baiulu  oj  sleep.     Wluil  liyure? 

97    Dispose  of  like  and  /jck/. 

ti&.  rained  up.     Would  this  be  correct  in  prose? 


JOHN  DRYBEN.  85 

As  awaked  from  the  dead,  10(t 

Aud,  amazed,  he  stares  around. 
Revenge !  revenge !  Timotheus  cries. 
See  the  Furies  arise  I 
See  the  snalces  that  they  rear  I 

How  they  hiss  in  their  hair,  106 

And  tlie  sjiarkles  that  flash  from  their  eyes  I 
Behold  a  ghastly  band, 
Each  a  torch  in  his  hand  I 
These  are  Grecian  ghosts,  that  in  battle  were  slain 

And  unburied  remain,  110 

Inglorious  on  the  plain 
Give  the  vengeance  due 
To  the  valiant  crew. 
Behold  how  they  toss  their  torches  on  high. 

How  they  point  to  the  Persian  abodes,  115 

And  glittering  temples  of  their  hostile  gods ' 
The  princes  applaud  with  a  furious  joy. 
And  the  king  seized  a  flambeau  with  zeal  to  destroy ; 
Thais  led  the  way. 

To  light  him  to  his  prey,  120, 

And,  like  another  Helen,  fired  another  Troy  1 


NoT£B. — 116.  their  hostile  gods, 
the  gods  of  their  enemies, 
the  Persia-iis. 

118.  flambeau,  a  torch. 

121.  like  another  Helen.  Ac- 
cording to  mythology, 
Helen,  wife  of  Menelaus, 
king  of  Sparta,  was  the 
most  beautiful  woman  in 
the  world.     She  wa*  said 


to  be  of  divine  origin,  and 
was  stolen  by  Paris,  prince 
of  Troy,  which  led  to  the 
Trojan  war  and  the  con- 
sequent burning  of  Troy. 
Helen  being  the  occasion 
of  the  Trojan  war,  she  is 
represented  as  the  cause 
of  the  burning  of  Troy  by 
the  Greeks. 


Analysis. — 100,  101.  "Write  in  prose  form,  and  supply  the  ellipsis. 
Disjiose  of  the  word  around. 
105.  they  and  their.    To  what  does  each  word  refer? 
108.  Give  construction  of  f^rch. 
112,  113.  Explain  what  is  meant. 
118.  to  destroy.     What  does  it  modify  ? 
120.   To  light,  etc.     Wliat  kind  of  plirasi^,  and  what  does  it  modify? 


86 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


VII. 

Thus,  long  ago, 
Ere  heaviug  bellows  learned  to  blow, 

While  organs  yet  were  mute ; 
Timotheus,  to  his  breathing  flute 
And  sounding  lyre. 
Could  swell  the  soul  to  rage,  or  kindle  soft  desire. 
At  last  divine  Cecilia  came, 
Inventress  of  the  vocal  frame ; 
The  sweet  enthusiast,  from  her  sacred  store, 
Enlarged  the  former  narrow  bounds, 
And  added  length  to  solemn  sounds, 
With  Nature's  mother-wit,  and  arts  unknown  before. 
Let  old  Timotheus  yield  the  prize, 

Or  both  divide  the  crown ;  136 

He  raised  a  mortal  to  the  skies ; 
She  drew  an  angel  down. 


1S8 


130 


Notes.— 122-124.  Thus  .  .  .  . 
were  mute  ;  that  is,  before 
the  invention  of  organs. 

125.  to,  with. 

129.  Inventress,  etc.  Cecilia  is 
said  to  have  lived  in  the 
third  century,  and  to  her 
is  ascribed  the  invention 
of  the  vocal  frame,  or  or- 
gan. 


136. 


137. 


He  raised  a  mortal,  eta 
He  immortalized  Alex- 
ander. 

She  drew  an  angel  down. 
This  probably  refers  to  the 
legend  in  the  story  of  St. 
( 'ecilia,  that  she  was  under 
the  immediate  protection 
of  an  angel,  as  related  iu 
the  Leyenda  Aura. 


Analysis. — 123.  Meaning  of  heaving  bellows  f 
127.  Explain  the  figures  in  the  line. 
131   132.  What  is  the  meaning  of  these  lines? 
133.  Nature^ s.     Why  written  with  a  capital  letter?     What  figure 
CD  the  line  ? 

mother-wit.     Give  the  meaning. 
137.  Dispose  of  down. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  87 

CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITEES. 

POET. 

Samuel  Butler  (1612-1680). — ^The  greatest  burlesque- writer  of 
the  age  in  whicli  he  lived.  Famous  as  the  author  of  Hudihraa, 
one  of  the  keenest  satires  in  English,  ridiculing  the  manners 
of  the  Puritans. 

PROSE-WRITERS. 

John  Bunyan  (1628-1688).— The  greatest  master  of  Allegory 
in  the  language.  At  first  a  poor  tinker,  then  a  preacher.  Wrote 
his  famous  Pilgrim's  Progress  while  in  jail  for  insisting  on  preach- 
ing his  doctrines  to  the  people.  Author  also  of  ffoli/  War  and 
Grace  abounding  in  the  Chief  of  Sinners,  all  written  in  excellent 
English. 

John  Locke  (1632-1704). — A  metaphysical  writer.  Educated 
at  Oxford.  His  greatest  work  is  A7i  Essay  concerning  (he 
Human  Understanding.  Author  also  of  Thoughts  concerning 
Education  and  other  essays. 

Sir  William  Temple  (1628-1699).— A  well-known  statesman 
and  a  writer  of  high  character.  Author  of  a  number  of  grace- 
fully-written essays. 

John  Evelyn  (1620-1706). — Distinguished  as  the  author  of 
several  scientific  works  written  in  a  popular  style.  His  most 
prominent  works  are  Sylva,  a  treatise  on  forest  trees,  and 
''hrrOy  a  work  on  agriculture  and  gardening. 


V. 

AGE    OF    QUEEN    ANNE. 

1700-1780. 
Reigns  of  Queen  Anne,  George  I.,  George  II. 

The  age  of  Queen  Anne  is  remarkable  chiefly  for  the 
introduction  of  periodical  literature.  This  is  the  era  in 
which  flourished  The  Taller  and  The  Sj^edator,  the  earliest 
of  literary  journals. 

The  moral  tone  of  this  era  was  but  little  more  elevated 
than  that  of  the  preceding,  but  there  was  more  refine- 
ment of  both  manners  and  language.  Among  the  most 
noted  literary  representatives  of  the  era  were  Addison, 
Pope,  Steele,  Swift,  and  Defoe. 


7.  JOSEPH    ADDISON, 

1672-1710. 

Joseph  Addison,  the  son  of  a  Wiltshire  rector,  was 
horn  May  1,  1G72.  His  early  life  was  passed  in  his 
father's  family  at  the  rectory,  but  in  his  boyliood  he 
was  sent  to  Charter-House  School  in  London,  where 
he  met  a  young  Irish  lad,  Richard  Steele,  with  whom 
he  formed  an  intimate  friendship  wliich  continued 
through  life.  At  tlie  age  of  fifteen  lie  left  the  Charter- 
House  School  and  entered  Queen's  College,  Oxford. 
Two  years  later  he  secured  a  scholarship  in  Magdalen 
College,  granted  U)T  the  excellence  of  his  Latin  verses. 

R8 


JOSEPH  ADDISON.  89 

He  published  his  first  poem,  some  verses  addressed 
to  Drj'den,  in  1694,  which  won  for  him  the  friendship 
of  that  poet.  Tliis  was  a  matter  of  considerable  im- 
portance to  young  Addison,  who  was  without  fame 
and  as  yet  unknown  to  the  literary  men  of  England. 

Addison's  father  was  desirous  that  his  son  should 
Iwcome  a  clergyman,  but  Lords  Somers  and  Montagu 
decided  that  such  talent  as  he  displaj^ed  was  needed 
in  the  service  of  his  country.  lie  wrote  a  poem  on  the 
King,  which  pleased  the  monarch  so  highly  that  Ad- 
dison was  put  on  a  pension  of  three  hundred  pounds 
a  year,  that  he  might  cultivate  his  literary  taste  by 
travel  on  the  Continent.  Addison  accordingly  began 
At  once  to  travel  in  France  and  Italy,  studying  closely 
^he  society,  manners,  and  scenery  of  the  countries 
through  which  he  passed,  and  at  the  same  time  at- 
tempting to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  French  lan- 
guage. King  William's  death,  however,  cut  off  his 
pension,  and  he  was  finally  compelled  to  return  to 
England. 

When  the  battle  of  Blenheim  was  fought  Addison 
was  employed  to  write  a  poem  in  ]iraise  of  the  vic- 
tory. This  brought  him  again  to  the  notice  of  the 
Crown,  and  he  was  made  commissioner  of  appeals. 
From  this  post  he  rose  ra})idly  until  he  became  sec- 
retary of  Ireland,  and,  finally,  in  1717,  one  of  the 
King's  chief  secretaries  of  State,  the  highest  position 
he  attained. 

In  the  spring  of  1709,  Addison's  old  school-fellow, 
Richard  Steele,  started  a  tri-wcekly  paper  called  Hie 
Tatler,  to  which  Addison  became  a  contributor.  This 
paper  gave  in  each  issue  a  short  article  or  essay  and 
items  of  news.  It  became  popular  at  once.  In  1711, 
Addison  and  Steele  issued,  instead  of  The  Tatler,  their 
famous  daily,  Tlie  Spectator.     Both  contributors  wrote 


90  STUDIES  i:S  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

anonymously,  though  Addison's  articles  were  usually 
signed  by  one  of  the  letters  C,  L,  I,  0 — supposed  to 
represent  Chelsea,  London,  Islington,  and  the  Office. 

Addison  married  the  countess  of  Warwick  when  he 
was  forty-four,  but  the  marriage  was  not  a  happy  one. 
His  wife  was  high-spirited  and  dashing,  while  he  was 
cold  and  polished. 

Addison  won  fame  as  a  poet,  but  his  greatest  reputa- 
tion is  due  to  the  elegant,  graceful,  and  polished  style 
of  his  essays,  which  made  The  Spectator,  in  which  they 
mostly  were  printed,  a  classic.  Among  his  earlier  writ- 
ings were  an  opera  entitled  Eosamond  and  a  comedy 
called  J'he  Drummer.  Six  years  before  his  death  he 
wrote  a  tragedy  entitled  Cato,  which  was  received  with 
great  favor  and  applause.  It  was  translated  into  French. 
Italian,  and  German. 

In  his  later  years  he  was  addicted  to  drink,  and  it  is 
said  that  he  thawed  out  and  became  voluble  only  when 
to  some  extent  under  the  influence  of  wine.  He  died 
at  his  home  on  the  loth  of  June,  1719,  and  his  body 
was  borne  at  dead  of  night  to  Westminster  Abbey, 
where  it  was  buried. 

CRITICISM   BY  MACAULAY. 

The  mere  choice  and  arrangement  of  Addison's  words 
would  have  sufficed  to  make  his  essa3's  classical.  For 
never,  not  even  by  Dryden,  not  even  by  Temple,  had 
the  English  language  been  written  with  such  sweetness, 
grace,  and  facility. 

As  a  moral  satirist,  Addison  stands  unrivaled.  In 
wit,  properly  so  called,  he  was  not  inferior  to  Cowley 
or  Butler.  The  still  higher  faculty  of  invention  he  pos- 
Bessed  in  a  still  larger  measure.  The  numerous  fictions, 
generally  original,  often  wild  and  grotesque,  but  always 
singularly  graceful  and  h!ii)j)y,  which  are  found  in  his 


JOSEPH  ADDISON.  91 

esKsays,  full}'  entitle  him  to  the  rank  of  a  great  poet — a 
rank  to  wliich  his  metrical  compositions  give  him  no 
claim.  As  an  observer  of  life,  of  manners,  of  all  shades 
of  human  character,  he  stands  in  the  first  class.  And 
what  he  observed  he  had  the  art  of  communicating  in 
two  widely-different  ways.  He  could  describe  virtues, 
vices,  habits,  whims,  as  well  as  Clarendon.  But  he 
could  do  something  better.  He  could  call  human 
beings  into  existence,  and  make  them  exhibit  them- 
selves. If  we  wish  to  find  anything  more  vivid  than 
Addison's  best  portraits,  we  must  go  either  to  Shake- 
fej^eare  or  to  Cervantes. 

ESSAY  ON  CHEEEFULNESS. 

I  have  always  preferred  cheerfulness  to  mirth.  The 
latter  I  consider  as  an  act,  the  former  as  a  habit  of  the 
mind.  Mirth  is  short  and  transient,  cheerfulness  fixed 
and  permanent.  Those  are  often  raised  into  the  great- 
est transports  of  mirth  wlio  are  subject  to  the  greatest  5 
depressions  of  melancholy :  on  the  contrary,  cheerful- 
ness, though  it  does  not  give  the  mind  such  an  exquisite 
gladness,  prevents  us  from  falling  into  any  depths  of 
sorrow.  Mirth  is  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  that  breaks 
througli  a  gloom  of  clouds  and  glitters  for  a  moment ;  10 
cheerfulness  keeps  up  a  kind  of  daylight  in  the  mind, 
and  fills  it  with  a  steady  and  perpetual  serenit}'. 

Men  of  austere  principles  look  upon   mirth  as  too 
wanton  and  dissolute  for  a  state  of  probation,  and  as 


Analysis. — 2.  as  an  act.     Dispose  of  asf. 

the  former  as-  a  habit.     Sui)ply  the  ellipsis. 
S    cheerfulness  filed.    Supply  ellipsis.     Dispose  of  ylxcrf. 
4.  Those,  etc.     Give  niodiliers  of  those. 
6.  depressions  of  meluncholy.     What  figure? 

9.  Mirth  it  like  afiash,  etc.     Explain  the  figure.    Give  the  aae  of 
nghtning. 


92  STUDIES  IN  EXnUSII  LITERATURE. 

filled  with  a  certain  triumph  and  insolence  of  heart  16 
that  is  inconsistent  witli  a  life  which  is  every  moment 
obnoxious  to  the  greatest  dangers.  Writers  of  this 
complexion  have  observed  that  the  sacred  Person  who 
was  the  great  pattern  of  perfection  was  never  seen  to 
laugh.  20 

Cheerfulness  of  mind  is  not  liable  to  any  of  these  ex- 
ceptions :  it  is  of  a  serious  and  composed  nature ;  it  does 
nut  throw  the  mind  into  a  condition  improper  for  the 
present  state  of  humanity,  and  is  very  conspicuous  in 
the  characters  of  those  who  are  looked  upon  as  the  25 
greatest  philosophers  among  the  heathen,  as  well  as 
among  those  who  have  been  deservedly  esteemed  as 
Baints  and  holy  men  among  Christians. 

If  we  consider  cheerfulness  in  three  lights,  with  re- 
gard to  ourselves,  to  those  we  converse  with,  and  to  the  30 
great  Author  of  our  being,  it  will  not  a  little  recom- 
mend itself  on  each  of  these  accounts.     The  man  who 
is  possessed  of  this  excellent  frame  of  mind  is  not  only 
easy  in  his  thoughts,  Ijut  a  perfect  master  of  all  the 
powers  and  faculties  of  his  soul :   his  imagination  is  35 
always  clear,  and  his  judgment  undisturbed ;  his  tem- 
per is  even  and  unruffled,  whether  in  action  or  in  soli- 
tude.    He  comes  with  a  relish  to  all  those  goods  which 
Nature  has  provided  for  him,  tastes  all  the  pleasures  of 
the  creation  which  are  i)0ured  about  him,  and  does  not  40 
feel  the  full  weight  of  those  accidental  evils  which  may 
befall  him.  

Analysis. — 16.  To  wliat  does  that  relate? 
18.  Whi)  is  meant  by  sncrrd  Ptrsonf 
25.  Di.Hpose  of  are  Inohcd  upon. 

25,  26.  (live  the  construction  of  as  and  philosophen. 

26.  Dispose  of  an  mell  as. 

28.  among  Chrintians.     What  does  flie  [ihrase  nuKlifyT 
80.  to  those,  etc.     What  does  the  phrase  modify  ? 
38-42.  He  comes,  etc.     Name  all  tlie  prcdicsites. 


JOSEPH  ADDISON.  93 

If  we  consider  him  in  relation  to  the  persons  whom 
he  converses  with,  it  naturally  produces  love  and  good- 
will toward  him.  A  cheerful  mind  is  not  only  dis-  45 
possd  to  be  aflfable  and  obliging,  but  raises  the  same 
good-humor  in  those  who  come  within  its  influence. 
A  man  finds  himself  pleased,  he  does  not  know  why, 
with  the  cheerfulness  of  his  companion :  it  is  like  a 
sudden  sunshine  that  awakens  a  secret  delight  in  the  50 
mind,  without  her  attending  to  it :  the  heart  rejoices  of 
its  own  accord,  and  naturally  flows  out  into  friendship 
and  benevolence  toward  the  person  who  has  so  kindly 
an  effect  upon  it. 

When  I  consider  this  cheerful  state  of  mind  in  its  55 
third  relation,  I  cannot  but  look  upon  it  as  a  constant 
habitual  gratitude  to  the  great  Author  of  Nature.  An 
inward  cheerfulness  is  an  implicit  praise  and  thanks- 
giving to  Providence  under  all  its  dispensations  :  it  is  a 
kind  of  acquiescence  in  the  state  wherein  we  are  placed,  60 
and  a  secret  approbation  of  the  Divine  will  in  his  con- 
duct toward  men. 

There  are  but  two  things  which,  in  my  opinion,  can 
reasonably  deprive  us  of  this  cheerfulness  of  heart  The 
first  of  these  is  the  sense  of  guilt.  A  man  who  lives  in  65 
a  state  of  vice  and  impenitence  can  have  no  title  to  that 
evenness  and  tranquillity  of  mind  which  is  the  health 
of  the  soul  and  the  natural  effect  of  virtue  and  inno- 
cence. Cheerfulness  in  an  ill  man  deserves  a  harder 
name  thai   language  can  furnish  us  with,  and  is  many  70 


Analysis. — '13,  44.  xvhovi  he  converses  with.     Dispose  of  whom. 

49,  50    What  figure  in  these  lines? 

51.  the  heart  .  .  .  .flows  oat.     What  figure? 

53,  kindly.     What  part  of  speech? 

69    Point  out  and  name  the  figure  in  this  line. 

67.  which  its  the  health,  etc.     Wiiat  figure? 

7U.  furnish  us  with.     Dispose  ol"  the  verb. 


94  STUDIES  IN  ENQLISH  LITERATURE. 

degrees  beyond  what  we  commonly  call  folly  or  mad 
ness. 

Atheism,  by  which  I  mean  a  disbelief  of  a  Supreme 
Being,  and  consequently  of  a  future  state,  under  what- 
soever titles  it  shelters  itself,  may  likewise  very  reason-  75 
ably  deprive  a  man   of  this   cheerfulness  of  temper. 
There  is  something  so  particularly  gloomy  and  offensive 
to  human  nature  in  the  prospect  of  non-existence,  that 
I  cannot  but  wonder,  with  many  excellent  writers,  how 
it  is  possible  foi  a  man  to  outlive  the  expectation  of  it.  80 
For  my  own  part,  I  think  the  being  of  a  God  is  so  little 
to  be  doubted,  tliat  it  is  almost  the  only  truth  we  are 
sure  of,  and  such  a  truth  as  we  meet  with  in  every  ob- 
ject, in  every  occurrence,  and  in  every  thought.     If  we 
look  into  the  characters  of  this  tribe  of  infidels,  we  gen-  86 
erally  find  they  are  made  up  of  pride,  spleen,  and  cavil : 
it  is  indeed  no  wonder  that  men  who  arc  uneasy  to 
tliemselves  should  be  so  to  the  rest  of  the  world;  and 
how  is  it  possil)le  for  a  man  to  be  otherwise  tlian  un- 
easy in  himself  who  is  in  danger  every  moment  of  los-  90 
ing  his  entire  existence  and  dropping  into  nothing? 

The  vicious  man  and  atheist  have  therefore  no  ])re- 
tence  to  cheerfulness,  and  would  act  very  unreasonably 
Bhould  they  endeavor  after  it.  It  is  impossible  for  any 
one  to  live  in  good-humor,  and  enjoy  his  present  ex-  ^ 
istence,  who  is  apprehensive  either  of  torment  or  of 
annihilation  ;  of  being  miserable,  or  of  not  being  at  all. 

After  having  mentioned  these  two  great  principles, 
which  arc  destructive  of  cheerfulness  in  their  own  na- 


Anai>ysis. — 71.  degrees  beyond.     Dispose  of  beyond. 

73,  74.  Alhelwi,  etc.     Point  out  the  fif,Mire. 

b2,  83.  are  t.ure  of.     Give  graniiiiatical  coiistiuclion, 

89.  Dispose  of  lo  be  nt/icnvuse  than. 

94.  endeavor  uj'n;r  i'      lOxj'lain. 


JOSEPH  ADDISON.  95 

lure,  as  well  as  in  right  reason,  I  cannot  think  of  any  100 
otlier  that  ought  to  banish  this  happy  temper  from  a 
virtuous  mind.  Pain  and  sickness,  shame  and  reproach, 
po'-erty  and  old  age,  nay  death  itself,  considering  the 
shortness  of  their  duration  and  tlie  advantage  we  may 
reap  from  them,  do  not  deserve  the  name  of  evils :  a  105 
good  mind  may  bear  up  under  them  with  fortitude,  with 
indolence,  and  with  cheerfulness  of  heart.  The  tossing 
of  a  tempest  does  not  discompose  him,  wliich  he  is  sure 
will  bring  him  to  a  joyful  harbor. 

A  man  who  uses  his  best  endeavors  to  live  according  110 
to  the  dictates  of  virtue  and  right  reason  has  two  per- 
petual sources  of  cheerfulness,  in  the  consideration  of 
his  own  nature,  and  of  that  Being  on  whom  he  has  a 
dependence.     If  he  looks  into  himself,  he  cannot  but  re- 
joice in  that  existence  which  is  so  lately  bestowed  on  115 
him,  and  which,  after  millions  of  ages,  will  be  still  new 
and  still  in  its  beginning.     How  many  self-congratula- 
tions naturally  arise  in  tlie  mind  when  it  reflects  on  this 
its  entrance  into  eternity,  when  it  takes  a  view  of  those 
improvable  faculties  which  in  a  few  years,  and  even  atl2C 
his  first  setting  out,  liave  made  so  considerable  a  prog- 
ress, and  which  will  be  still  receiving  an  increase  of 
perfection,  and  conse(iuently  an  increase  of  happiness  1 


Analysis. — 101.  to  bani-<h,  etc.    Wliat  figure? 
105,  106.  a  good  mind  may  bear  np,  etc.     Parse  {.he  verK 
108.  which.  What  is  the  antecedent?     Rewrite  the  sentence  in  H 
iifierent  order. 

112.  f^onrce^s  of  cheerfuhie.'!s.     What  figure? 
What  phrases  modify  consideration  * 
114    If  he  looks,  etc.     Suhjunctive  or  indicative? 
114,  115.  he  rannnt  but  rejoice.     Parse 
1 17.  still  in  its  berjinning.     What  does  "still"  moiUfv  f 

120.  What  is  the  force  of  even  in  this  line? 

121.  Di«|)ose  of  ietting  nut. 


96  STUDIES  IN  ENGLrSH  LITERATURE. 

The  consciousness  of  such  a  being  spreads  a  perpetual 
diffusion  of  jo}'  througli  the  soul  of  a  virtuous  man,  and  128 
makes  him  look  upon  himself  every  moment  as  more 
happy  than  he  knows  how  to  conceive. 

The  second  source  of  cheerfulness  to  a  good  mind  la 
its  consideration  of  that  Being  on  whom  we  have  our 
dependence,  and  in  whom,  though  we  behold  Him  ao  130 
yet  but  in  the  first  faint  discoveries  of  His  perfections, 
we  see  everything  that  we  can  imagine  as  great,  glorious, 
or  amiable.  We  find  ourselves  everywhere  upheld  by 
His  goodness,  and  surrounded  with  an  immensity  of 
love  and  mercy.  In  short,  we  depend  upon  a  Being  135 
whose  power  qualifies  Him  to  make  us  happy  by  an 
infinity  of  means,  whose  goodness  and  truth  engage 
Him  to  make  tliose  happy  who  desire  it  of  Him,  and 
whose  unchangeableness  will  secure  us  in  this  happi- 
ness to  all  eternity.  140 

Sucli  considerations,  which  every  one  should  perpet- 
ually cherish  in  his  thoughts,  will  banish  from  us  all 
that  secret  heaviness  of  heart  which  untliinking  men 
are  subject  to  when  they  lie  under  no  real  aflliction,  all 
that  anguish  which  we  may  feel  from  any  evil  that  ac- 145 
tually  oppresses  us,  to  which  I  may  likewise  add  those 
little  cracklings  of  mirth  and  folly  that  are  apter  to  be- 
tray virtue  than  support  it ;  and  esta])lish  in  us  such  an 
even  and  cheerful  temper  as  makes  us  pleasing  to  our- 
selves, to  those  with  whom  we  converse,  and  to  Him  160 
whom  we  were  made  to  please. 


Analysis. — 124,  125.  spreads  a  perpetual  diffusion  of  joy,  etc     b 
\h'\B  a  gtxxl  expreKsion  ? 

130,  l.'il.  OH  yet  but.     Give  the  graiuniatical  construction. 
132,  133.  as  (jreal,  glorious,  etc.     Parse  the  a<ljective8. 
135.  Give  the  construction  of  In  short. 
141-151.  Analyze  this  sentence. 
147.  aptrr.     Give  the  OKxlern  form. 


JOSEPH  ADDISON.  97 

THE  HEAVENS  DECLAKE  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 
I 

The  spacious  firmament  on  high. 

With  all  the  blue  ethereal  sky, 

And  spangled  heavens,  a  shining  framej 

Their  great  Original  proclaim  ; 

Th'  unwearied  sun,  from  day  to  day, 

Does  his  Creator's  power  display, 

And  publishes  to  every  land 

The  work  of  an  Almighty  hand. 

II. 

Soon  as  the  evening  shades  prevail. 
The  moon  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale, 
And  nightly  to  the  listening  earth 
Repeats  the  story  of  her  birth  ; 
While  all  the  stars  that  round  her  burn, 
And  all  the  planets  in  their  turn, 
Confirm  the  tidings  as  they  roll. 
And  spread  the  truth  from  pole  to  pole. 

III. 
What  though,  in  solemn  silence,  all 
Move  round  the  dark  terrestrial  ball ' 
What  though  no  real  voice  or  sound 
Amid  their  radiant  orbs  be  found? 
In  Reason's  ear  tliey  all  rejoice, 
And  utter  forth  a  glorious  voice, 
For  ever  singing  as  they  shine, 
"  The  Hand  that  made  us  is  divine." 


8.  ALEXANDER  POPE, 

1688-1744, 

Alexander  Pope,  the  greatest  poet  of  this  period,  was 
born  of  Catholic  parents  in  London,  May  21, 1G88.  While 
attending  school  he  wrote  a  lampoon  on  his  teacher,  for 
which  he  was  severely  punished;  in  consequence  of 
which  his  parents  removed  him  from  school.  After 
the  age  of  twelve  he  devoted  himself  to  self-instruc- 
tion, giving  himself  up  almost  wholly  to  the  pursuit  of 
literature.  His  powers  as  a  poet  were  developed,  how- 
ever, before  his  school-life  closed,  hia  Ode  on  Solitude 
having  been  written  before  he  was  twelve.  Ilis  Essay 
on  Criticism  was  published  before  Pope  was  twenty -three 
years  of  age. 

Pope  was  a  man  of  peculiar  appearance.  His  face  wag 
pleasant,  but  from  early  infancy  his  body  was  sadly  de- 
formed. It  is  said  that  he  was  so  weak  that  he  was  not 
able  to  dress  or  undress  himself,  and  every  morning  he 
was  sewed  up  in  canvas  stays,  without  which  he  could 
not  stand  erect.  His  deformity  led  his  associates  to  call 
him  the  "  Interrogation-Point."  He  was  extremely  fas- 
tidious in  dress,  and  on  comi)any  days  "  he  alwa3'e  wore 
a  black  velvet  coat,  a  tie  wig,  and  a  little  sword."  His 
deformity  and  ill-health  seem  to  liave  warped  not  only 
his  body,  but  also  his  mind. 

In  his  boyhood  his  grand  passion  was  a  great  admira- 
tion for  Dryden,  and  this  it  was  that  led  him  to  imitate 
the  style  of  his  renowned  jjrcdecessor.  But  wliile  his 
wit  was  more  brilliant  tlian  that  of  Dryden,  Pope's  vigor 
of  thought  never  equaled  that  of  his  illustrious  model. 

98 


ALEXANDER  POPE.  99 

Pope's  Essay  on  Criticism,  tlie  finest  piece  of  argu- 
rrentative  poetry  in  the  English  language,  appeared 
in  1711,  though  it  had  been  completed  about  two  years 
before.  Following  this,  in  1713,  was  The  Rape  of  the 
Lock,  which  tells  the  story  of  a  curl  cut  from  the  head 
of  a  maiden  by  a  daring  young  nobleman.  This  little 
epic  poem  is  not  only  a  brilliant  specimen  of  the  mock- 
heroic  style,  but  it  gives  also  a  very  vivid  and  faitliful 
picture  of  fashionable  English  life  during  the  reign  of 
Queen  Anne. 

Pope  earned  some  reputation  also  as  a  translator.  In 
1712  he  began  the  translation  of  the  Iliad  and  the  Odys- 
sey, and  completed  his  work  in  1725.  Much  of  his  man- 
uscript while  making  this  translation  was  presented  to 
the  printer  on  scraps  of  paper  and  the  backs  of  letters. 
For  this  translation  he  received  eight  thousand  pounds, 
with  which  he  bought  himself  a  villa  at  Twickenham, 
surrounded  b}-  five  acres  of  land. 

The  Diinciad,  a  bitter  satire  which  appeared  in  1729, 
was  written  by  Pope  to  lash  the  enemies  and  critics 
who  constantly  annoyed  him.  They  gained  the  noto- 
riety they  courted,  but  not  in  the  way  they  desired. 

Pope's  most  finished  versification  appears  in  his  Essay 
on  Man,  a  poem  which  is  nearly  perfect  as  a  model  of 
didactic  poetry,  but  filled  with  dangerous  sentiments. 

The  death  of  this  great  poet  occurred  at  his  home  at 
Twickenham  on  the  30th  of  May,  1744.  Here,  with  a 
loving  mother,  he  had  lived  continuousl)'-  from  the  time 
of  hit>  purchase  of  the  Twickenham  home  to  the  time 
of  bib  death 

CRITICISM  BY  REV.  STOPFORD  BROOKE. 
Pope  is  our  greatest  master  in  didactic  poetry,  not  so 
much  because  of  the  worth  of  the  thouglits  as  because 
uf  the  masterly  form  in  which  they  are  put.     The  Easay 


100  STUD  FES  IN  EXGLISH  LITERATURE. 

on  Man,  tlioiigh  its  philosophy  is  poor  and  not  his  own, 
is  crowded  with  lines  that  have  passed  into  daily  use. 
The  Essay  on  Critlcmn  is  equally  full  of  critical  precepts 
put  with  exquisite  skill.  The  Satires  and  Epistles  are 
also  didactic.  They  set  virtue  and  cleverness  over 
against  vice  and  stupidity,  and  they  illustrate  both  by 
types  of  character,  in  tlie  drawing  of  whicli  Pope  is 
without  a  rival  in  our  literature.  His  translation  of 
Homer  is  made  with  great  literary  art,  but  for  that 
very  reason  it  does  not  make  us  feel  the  simplicity 
and  directness  of  Homer.  It  has  neither  the  manner 
of  Homer  nor  the  spirit  of  the  Greek  life,  just  as  Pope's 
descriptions  of  Nature  have  neither  the  manner  nor  the 
spirit  of  Nature.  The  heroic  coiqdet,  in  which  he  wrote 
his  translation  and  nearly  all  his  work,  he  used  in  va- 
rious subjects  with  a  correctness  that  has  never  been 
surpassed,  but  it  sometimes  fails  from  being  too  smooth 
and  its  cadences  too  regular.  Finally,  he  was  a  true 
artist,  hating  those  who  degraded  his  art,  and  at  a  time 
when  men  followed  it  for  money  and  place,  and  the 
applause  of  the  club  and  of  the  town,  he  loved  it  faith- 
fully to  the  end  for  its  own  sake. 

ESSAY   OX   AfAN. 
Note. — The  following  are  the  closing  lines  of  Epistle  I.  of  Pop^t 
EsMy  on  Man  : 

Far  as  creation's  ample  raiijre  extends, 
The  scale  of  sensual,  mental  powers  ascends: 
Mark  how  it  mounts  to  man's  imperial  race, 
From  the  green  myriads  in  the  j)eoplcd  grass  I 


A?rALvais. — 1.  Supply  ellipsis.     What  does  this  line  modify? 

1.  2.  Name  the  suliject  and  the  predicate  of  the  sentence. 

2.  senxual  here  means  "  material." 

3.  Wiiat  is  the  subject  of  jl/rtr/ii.     Name  also  the  niodiliereof  3/ar4 

4.  in  Oie  jicoplal  groan.     What  kind  of  inodiliur '' 


ALEXANDER  POPE.  101 

What  modes  of  sight  betwixt  each  wide  extreme  I  5 

The  mole's  dim  curtain  and  the  lynx's  beam  ; 

Of  smell,  the  headlong  lioness  between, 

And  hound  sagacious  on  the  tainted  green; 

Of  hearing,  from  the  life  that  fills  the  flood 

To  that  which  warbles  through  the  vernal  wood.  10 

The  spider's  touch  how  exquisitely  fine  I 

Feels  at  each  thread,  and  lives  along  the  line : 

In  the  nice  bee,  what  sense,  so  subtly  true, 

From  poisonous  herbs  extracts  the  healing  dew  I 

How  instinct  varies  in  the  groveling  swine,  16 

Compared,  half-reasoning  elephant,  with  thine  I 

'Twixt  that  and  reason  what  a  nice  barrier  1 

For  ever  separate,  yet  for  ever  near ! 

Remembrance  and  reflection  how  allied ! 

What  thin  partitions  sense  from  thought  divide  I  20 

And  middle  natures — how  they  long  to  join, 

Yet  never  pass  the  insuperable  line  I 


Analysis. — 5.  Sui>ply  the  ellipsis.   What  does  the  adjunct  belcixt, 
etc.  modify? 

G.  Give  the  case  of  curtain  and  beam.    Supply  the  ellipsis  and  ex- 
plain tlie  line. 

.  7,  8.  Write  this  in  prose,  supplying  the  ellipsis,  and  give  the  gram- 
matical construction  of  the  words. 

8.  on  the  tauUed  (jrcen,  on  the  gr;iss  tainted  with  the  scent  of  game. 
WJiat  figure? 

9.  the  life  that  Jills  the  flood.     Exj)laiu  the  figures. 

10.  Explain  the  line.     Name  the  figure. 

11.  Name  the  suhject  and  the  predicate. 

12.  Supply  the  subjects  necessary  to  complete  the  sense. 

13.  Dispose  of  so  and  subtly. 

14    Name  (he  subject  of  extracts. 
16   elepliant.     Give  the  ca^se. 

xvilh  thine.     Thine  has  the  possessive  form,  but  it  is  in  the  ob» 
jeci've  ca*€  after  v)i(h. 

18.  For  ever  separate,  etc.     Supply  the  ellipsis. 

19.  Supply  the  predicate,  and  parse. 

20.  sennefrom  thought  divide,  sensation  from  reason.     What  figure? 

21.  middle  natvres.     Give  the  construction. 


102  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURR 

Without  this  just  gradation  could  they  be 

Subjected,  these  to  those,  or  all  to  thee  ? 

The  powers  of  all  subdued  by  thee  alone,  25 

Is  not  thy  reason  all  these  powers  in  one  ? 

See  through  this  air,  this  ocean,  and  this  earth, 
All  matter  quick,  and  bursting  into  birth  I 
Above,  how  high  progressive  life  may  go  I 
Around,  how  wide  I  how  deep  extend  below  1  30 

Vast  chain  of  being,  which  from  God  began  I — 
Natures  ethereal,  human,  angel,  man, 
Beast,  bird,  fish,  insect,  what  no  eye  can  see, 
No  glass  can  reach  ;  from  infinite  to  thee. 
From  thee  to  nothing.     On  superior  powers  86 

Were  we  to  press,  inferior  might  on  ours; 
Or  in  the  full  creation  leave  a  void, 
Where,  one  step  broken,  the  great  scale's  destroyed: 
From  Nature's  chain  whatever  link  you  strike, 
Tenth,  or  tcn-tiiousandth,  breaks  the  chain  alike.  40 

And,  if  each  system  in  gradation  roll 
Alike  essential  to  the  amazing  whole, 
The  least  confusion  but  in  one,  not  all 
That  system  only,  but  the  whole,  must  fall. 

Analysis. — 24.  the»e  to  those,  or  all  to  thee.     Parse. 
25.  all  subdued,  etc.     Give  grammatical  construction. 

28.  Dispose  of  quick  and  bursting. 

29.  What  does  above,  how  high,  modify? 

30.  around,  how  wide!    Wliat  do  these  words  modify?    What  does 
how,  deep,  below,  each  mcxlify? 

31-35.  These  five  liiuvs,  ending  witli  the  word  nothing,  are  inde- 
pendent in  construction. 

33.  what  no  eye  can  see,  etc. ;  that  is,  microscopic  beings. 

34.  What  participle  is  understood  before /row  infinite  f 

35.  36.  On  superior  powers  were  we  to  press.    Give  the  mode  of  each 
»erb. 

37   38.  Give  the  mrwle  of  the  verbs  in  these  lines. 

39    Give  the  Cf)nstnicti()n  of  whatever. 

iO.  What  do  tenth,  ten-thousandth,  and  alike  modify? 

42.  alike  essential.     Wbat  does  each  word  uio<lify? 

43,  44.  Supply  ellijisis,  and  rewrite. 


ALEXANDER  POPE.  103 

Let  earth  unbalanced  from  her  orbit  fly,  45 

Planets  and  suns  run  lawless  through  the  sljy ; 

Let  ruling  angels  from  their  spheres  be  hurled, 

Being  on  being  wrecked,  and  world  on  world, — 

Heaven's  whole  foundations  to  their  centre  nod, 

And  Nature  trembles  to  the  throne  of  God.  80 

All  this  dread  order  break  ? — For  whom  ?  for  thee  ? 

Vile  worm  I     O  madness  I  pride  I  impiety  1 

What  if  the  foot,  ordained  the  dust  to  tread, 
Or  hand  to  toil,  aspired  to  be  the  head  ? 

What  if  the  head,  the  eye,  or  ear,  repined  55 

To  serve  mere  engines  to  the  ruling  mind? 
Just  as  absurd  for  any  part  to  claim 
To  be  another  in  this  general  frame ; 
Just  as  absurd  to  mourn  the  tasks  or  pains 
The  great  directing  Mind  of  all  ordains.  60 

All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
Whose  body  Nature  is,  and  God  the  soul : 

CcmifiS. — 45,  46.  Let  earth   un-  I  54.  Or  hand  to  toil ;  that  is,  hand 


balanced  ....  fly,  etc. ; 
that  is,  If  the  earth  fly  from 
her  orbit,  then  planeta  and 
suns  will  run,  etc. 


ordained  to  toil. 
5(3.  To  serve  mere  engines,  etc. 
that  is,  to  serve  as  mere  en- 
gines, etc. 


4  NALTSis. — 45.  Dispose  of  unbcdanced  and  Jty. 

46.  Point  out  the  figure.     Dispose  of  lawless. 

47.  world  on  icorld.     Supply  ellipsis. 

50.  Point  out  the  figure. 

51.  Dispose  of  order  break. 

52.  Give  the  case  of  worm,  madness,  pride,  impiety. 

63.  Name  the  modifiers  oi  foot.    Explain  the  meaning  and  fore* 
•f  What. 
54.  Name  the  subjects  of  aspired. 

67    Jxist  as  absurd,  etc.     Name  the  fidl  modifier  of  aiswxl. 
67,  58.  Name  the  modifiers  of  claim. 
69,  60.  Explain  the  meaning. 

60.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

61.  Favne  hut.     What  does  it  limit? 

62.  Whose  body.     Name  tlie  subject  and  the  predicate. 
God  the  soul.     Supply  ellipsis,  and  analyze. 


104         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

That,  changed  through  all,  and  yet  in  all  the  same, 

Great  in  the  earth  as  in  the  ethereal  frame, 

Warms  in  the  sun,  refreshes  in  the  breeze,  S4 

Glows  in  the  stars,  and  blossoms  in  the  trees, 

Lives  through  all  life,  extends  through  all  extent, 

Spreads  undivided,  ojiorates  unspent. 

Breathes  in  our  soul,  informs  our  mortal  part, — 

As  full,  as  perfect,  in  a  hair  as  heart;  7C 

As  full,  as  perfect,  in  vile  man  that  mourns, 

As  the  rapt  seraph  that  adores  and  burns : 

To  him,  no  high,  no  low,  no  great,  no  small : 

lie  fills,  he  bounds,  connects,  and  equals  all. 

Cease,  then,  nor  order  imperfection  name:  75 

Our  proper  bliss  depends  on  what  we  blame. 
Know  thy  own  point:  This  kind,  this  due  degree, 
Of  blindness,  weakness.  Heaven  bestows  on  thee. 
Submit.     In  this  or  any  other  sphere 

Secure  to  be  as  blest  as  thou  canst  bear ;  f>*i 

Safe  in  the  hand  of  one  disposing  Power, 
Or  in  the  natal  or  the  mortal  hour. 


Analysis. — 63.  Give  construction  of  That.    Name  the  predicates. 

chant/ed  through  all.     Wliat  does  the  plirase  modify? 
64.  Great  in  the  earth,  etc.     Supply  ellipsis  in  this  line. 
68.  Parse  undivided  and  unspent. 
70.  As  full,  as  perfect,  etc.     Supply  ellipsis. 

in  a  hair  as  heart.     Supply  ellipsis. 

72.  As  the  rapt  seraph.     Supply  ellipsis. 

73.  To  him  no  high,  etc.     What  is  the  meaning  of  this  line? 

75.  nor  order  imperfection  name  ;  that  is,  do  not  call  order  imperfeo- 
Uon.  Imperfection  is  here  a  factitive  noun.  (See  Ilaub's  Grammar, 
p.  164,  note  4.) 

76    Dispose  of  what. 

77.  Know  thy  own  point,  etc.     Naturally,  what  follows  would  be  ir 
Iroduced  by  the  conjunction  that. 

77,  78.  The  .  .  .  thee.     Name  the  subject. 

80.  Secure  to  be,  etc.     Dispose  of  secure. 

81.  Point  out  and  name  the  figure. 

82.  Or  ....  or.     Actxjrding  to  modern  usage  this  would  be  «tfA«r 
»  ,  .  or.      Meaning  of  milal  and  martal  lionrf 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  10b 

All  nature  is  but  art,  unknown  to  thee ; 

All  chance,  direction  which  thou  canst  not  see ; 

All  discord,  harmony  not  understood ;  Sfi 

All  partial  evil,  universal  good. 

And  spite  of  pride,  in  erring  reason's  spite. 

One  truth  is  clear :  Whatever  is,  is  right. 


Analysis. — 83-86.  Supply  ellipsis  Eewrite.  Name  the  subjectfl 
»nd  the  predicates. 

88.  Whatever  is,  is  right.  Give  graminalical  construction  of  each  of 
these  words.     The  whole  sentence  is  in  apposition  with  what? 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS. 

POETS. 

Matthew  Prior  (16G4-1721).— Educated  at  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge.  In  early  life  a  waiter  at  a  hotel.  Author  of  Solo- 
mon  and  a  number  of  lighter  poems. 

John  Gay  (1G88-1732). — A  brilliant  poet.  Noted  for  his  grace 
of  expression.     Author  of  Trivia  and  The  Beggafi  Opera. 

Dr.  Edward  Young  (1681-17G5).— Author  of  Night  Thoughts, 
a  sombre  f)oem,  written  in  blank  verse. 

Allan  Ramsay  (1(58()-1758). — A  Scotch  writer,  mostly  of  lyrics. 
First  a  wig-nuiker,  then  a  bookseller.  Author  of  The  Gentle 
Shepherd  and   The  Yellow-haired  Laddie. 

James  Thomson  (1700-1748). — The  son  of  a  minister.  Edu- 
cated at  the  University  of  Ediuburgh.  Was  made  surveyor- 
general  of  the  TiCeward  Islands,  where  he  jtaid  a  man  to  do 
the  work  while  he  si)ent  the  time  in  writing  poetry,  Author 
of  The  Seasons  and   77ie  Castle  of  Indolence. 

William  Collins  (1721-1759). — Celebrated  as  a  writer  of  odes. 
Educated  at  Oxford.  Was  also  a  fine  descriptive  writer.  Hia 
best  poems  are  The  Passions  and  his  odes  to  Liberty  and  Evening. 

Mark  Akenside  (1721-1770). — Was  a  physician,  liis  chiff 
poem  is  his  Pleasures  of  the  Imagination 


106  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

PROSE- WRITERS. 

Sir  Richard  Steele  (1671-1729). — A  great  essayist.  Born  in 
Dublin  of  English  parents.  A  schoolmate  of  Addison,  both  iu 
London  and  at  Oxford.  Founded  The  Tailer  in  1709,  the  orig- 
inal of  periodical  literature.  Began  The  Spectator  with  Addison 
iu  1711,  both  being  contributors  of  rare  merit.  Died  in  poverty 
in  Wales,  having  been  a  great  spendthrift  most  of  his  life. 

Jonathan  Swift  (1067-1745). — A  writer  of  keen  satires.  Edu- 
cated at  Trinity  College,  Dublin.  Took  holy  orders  in  1693. 
Became  dean  of  St.  Patrick's,  Dublin,  iu  1713.  His  two  greatest 
works  are  the  Tale  of  a  Tub,  a  satire  on  Presbyterians  and 
Papists,  and  Gulliver's  Travels,  a  political  satire.  Swift  died 
insane. 

Daniel  Defoe  (1661-1731).— The  son  of  a  London  butcher. 
A  voluminous  writer  of  fiction  and  political  pamphlets.  Was 
unexcelled  in  painting  fiction  in  the  colors  of  truth.  His  style 
is  simple  and  natural.      Author  of  Robinson  Crusoe. 

Sir  Isaac  Newton  (1042-1727). — A  distinguished  philosopher. 
Educated  at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  Author  of  Principia, 
a  work  on  Optics,  etc. 

George  Berkeley  (1684-1753).— Known  as  "Bishop  Berke- 
ley." A  noted  but  erratic  metaphysical  writer.  Author  of 
I'heory  of  Vision. 

Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu  (1690-1762).— Best  known  by 
her  graceful  and  graphic  Letters,  descriptive  of  travel  and 
foreign  fashions. 


VI. 

AGE  OF  JOHJN'SOK. 

17S0-1800. 

*  Reigns  of  George  II.  and  George  III. 

Tiifi  dge  of  Johnson,  which  includes  the  latter  half 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  presents  literature  of  a  higher 
moral  tone  than  that  of  the  preceding  age.  The  writers 
of  this  age  also  were  less  artificial  in  the^.r  mode  of  ex- 
pression, and  depended  more  on  Nature  to  furnish  both 
sentiment  and  thought.  It  was  a  time  also  in  which 
nearly  all  the  writers  led  a  precarious  life,  many  of 
them  often  being  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  It  was  a 
time  when,  as  Macaulay  paints  it,  "  all  that  is  squalid 
and  miserable  might  now  be  summed  up  in  the  word 
•poety  Some,  indeed,  like  Johnson,  struggled  through 
difficulties  to  fame  and  competence,  but  the  great  mass 
lived  in  garrets  and  cellars,  doing  the  work  of  literary 
hacks,  and  died  in  the  most  extreme  poverty. 


9.  THOMAS   GRAY, 

1716-1771. 


Thomas  Gray,  the  most  artistic  of  English  poets, 
was  born  in  Cornhill  on  the  26th  of  December,  1716. 
His  father,  a  money-scrivener  by  profession,  was  a  man 
of  such  violent  temper  that  Mrs.  Gray  separated  from 
him,  and  in  partnership  with  her  sister  opened  a  mil- 
linery-ahop  in  Cornhill.     \\\i\\  her  savings  in  this  es- 

107 


108  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

tahlishment  she  educated  her  son.  Ha\dng  a  brother 
at  Eton  who  was  one  of  the  masters,  she  sent  Thomas 
thither,  and  here  he  was  prepared  for  college.  Among 
his  most  valued  friends  was  Horace  Walpole,  after- 
ward a  prose-writer  of  great  merit. 

At  the  age  of  nineteen  Gray  entered  Peterhouse  Col- 
lege at  Cambridge  as  a  pensioner.  But  school-life  was 
unpleasant  to  him ;  he  had  no  taste  for  either  mathe- 
matics or  metaphysics,  though  he  was  particularly  fond 
of  the  classics.  At  the  close  of  his  school-life  he  and 
Walpole  undertook  a  tour  of  France  and  Italy.  Their 
tastes,  however,  were  so  at  variance  that  they  finally 
quarreled  and  separated. 

Gray  returned  to  England,  and  after  his  father's 
death  settled  at  Cambridge,  where  he  spent  most  of 
the  subsequent  part  of  his  life.  He  was  not  fond  of 
the  place,  but  he  was  an  ardent  lover  of  books,  and 
the  University  libraries  were  the  great  attraction  to 
him.  A  madcap  freak  of  some  of  tlie  students  at  Pe- 
terhouse, by  which,  with  the  cry  of  lire,  tliey  frightened 
Gray  to  such  an  extent  that  he  threw  his  rope  ladder 
from  his  window  and  then  hastily  descended,  only  to 
drop  into  a  tub  of  water  placed  to  receive  him,  caused 
him  to  remove  from  Peterhouse  to  Pembroke  J I  all. 

Gray's  first  poem,  his  Ode  to  Spring,  a]>peared  in 
1742,  and  soon  thereafter  he  produced  also  an  excellent 
poem  entitled  A  Distant  Prospect  of  Eton  Chllege.  though 
it  was  not  published  until  some  years  later. 

In  1757,  the  post  of  poet-laureate  having  become  va- 
cant through  the  death  of  Collcy  Cibber,  the  position 
was  offered  to  Gray,  but  he  declined  it.  Eleven  years 
later  he  accepted  the  professorship  of  Modern  History 
at  Cambridge,  a  position  worth  four  hundred  pounds  a 
year,  wliich  lie  had  Ix-en  seeking  for  some  years. 

Cxray  is  best  known  by  his  /'-V^^.v  m  a  Country  Church- 


THOMAS  GRAY.  109 

yard,  published  in  1750.  It  is  said  that  the  poet  re- 
vised and  corrected  this  poem  for  eight  3'ears  before 
giving  it  to  the  public.  It  ran  rapidly  through  eleven 
editions,  and  it  has  been  translated  more  than  fifty 
times,  into  German,  Italian,  Greek,  Latin,  Hebrew,  and 
Portuguese. 

By  some  the  two  odes.  The  Progress  of  Poesy  and  T?i.e 
Bards,  are  considered  his  best  poems,  but  neither  of 
these  is  so  popular  as  the  Elegy.  Gray  was  the  author 
also  of  many  excellent  letters,  written  while  he  was 
traveling  among  the  lakes  of  Cumberland  and  West- 
moreland. 

Having  been  long  afflicted  with  the  gout,  he  died  of 
this  disease  in  his  fifty-sixth  year,  and  was,  at  his  own 
request,  buried  by  the  side  of  his  mother,  to  whom  he 
had  always  been  most  tenderly  attached. 

CRITICISM  BY  MACKINTOSH. 
Gray  was  a  poet  of  a  far  higher  order  than  Gold- 
smith, and  of  an  almost  opposite  kind  of  merit.     Of  all 
English  poets,  he  was  the  most  finished  artist.     He  at- 
tained the  highest  kind  of  splendor  of  which  poetical 

style  seems  capable Almost  all  Gray's  poetry  was 

lyrical — that  species  which,  issuing  from  the  mind  in 
the  highest  state  of  excitement,  requires  an  intensity 
of  feeling  which,  for  a  long  composition,  the  genius  of 
no  poet  could  support.  Those  who  com])lained  of  its 
brevity  and  rajiidity  only  confessed  their  own  inability 
to  follow  the  movements  of  poetical  inspiration.  Of 
the  two  grand  attributes  of  tlio  ode,  Dryden  had  dis- 
played the  enthusiasm,  Gray  exhibited  the  magnif- 
icence. He  is  also  the  only  modern  English  writer 
whose  Latin  verses  deserve  general  notice,  but  we  must 
lament  that  sucli  dillicult  trifles  had  diverted  his  genius 
from  its  natural  objects. 


no 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


ELEGY  WRITTEN   IN  A  COUNTRY  CHURCHYARD 

1 .  The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day, 

The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea, 
The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way. 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  tc  me. 

2.  Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  on  the  sight, 

And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds, 
Save  whore  the  beetle  wheels  his  droning  flight, 
And  drowsy  tinklings  lull  the  distant  folds: 

8.  Save  that  from  yonder  ivy-mantled  tower, 

The  moping  owl  does  to  the  moon  comjjlain 
Of  such  as,  wandering  near  her  secret  bower. 
Molest  her  ancient  solitary  reign. 


10 


Notes. — 1.  The  curfew.  In  olden 
times  a  bell  was  rung  at  night- 
fall as  a  signal  to  cover  fires. 
The  word  is  derived  from  tlie 
I'rcnch  couvrir,  to  cover,  and 
feu,  fire. 


11.  bower,  from  Anglo-Saxon  bur, 
a  cottage.  Used  by  G  ray  in 
tlie  sense  of  a  chamber  or 
](iiiging-j)lace. 

IG.  rude  forefathers  ;  that  is,  un- 
ctUlMied  anccstore. 


Analysis. — 1.  toUi>  (he  kndl.    Wliat  figure? 
of  parting  day.     ^Vllat  figure? 

2.  The  lowing  herd      What  figure?     Sliould  the  verb  be  winds  or 
vindf 

3.  The  plmvman,  etc.     Rewrite  this  line  in  as  many  ways  as  yoii  (aa 
6.  glimmering  landscape.     What  figure?     Analyze  the  sentence. 

6.  Dispose  of  slillnens.     What  figure  in  the  line? 

7.  8.  What  kind  of  elements  do  these  linos  form? 

8.  Point  out  the  figure.-*  in  the  line. 
9    Dispose  of  Save. 

ivy-mauded.     What  figure? 
9-12.  What  kind  of  clause? 

10.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

11.  0/  nuch  lis.     Parse  mich  and  as. 

wandering,  etc.     What  is  tlie  ofllce  of  this  phrase? 

12.  reign  is  here  used  in  the  sense  of  realm. 


THOMAS  GRAY.  Ill 

4.  Beneath  those  nigged  elms,  that  yew  tree's  shade, 

Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  mouldering  uoap, 
Each  in  his  narrow  cell  for  ever  laid,  IS 

The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep. 

5.  The  breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  morn, 

The  swallow  twittering  from  the  straw-built  shed, 
The  cock's  shrill  clarion,  or  the  echoing  horn. 

No  more  shall  rouse  them  from  their  lowly  bed.  20 

6.  For  them  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  shall  burn. 

Or  busy  housewife  ply  her  evening  care : 
No  children  run  to  lisp  their  sire's  return. 
Or  climb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share. 

7.  Oft  did  the  harvest  to  their  sickle  yield,  25 

Their  furrow  oft  the  stubborn  glebe  has  broke ; 
How  jocund  did  they  drive  their  team  a-field  I 
How  bowed  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  stroke  I 

Analysis. — 13-16.  Beneath,  etc.  This  is  a  periodic  sentence.  R^ 
write  in  prose  order. 

13.  Parse  tlie  word  shade. 

14.  What  does  the  line  modify? 

15.  Each,  Dispose  of.  Name  modifiers  of  laid.  What  figures  in 
the  line  ? 

16.  What  figure  in  the  line  ? 

17.  Tlie  breezy  call,  e.ic.     What  figure? 

18.  The  sinallow  twIUering.     What  figure  ? 

19.  Point  out  the  figure  in  tlie  line? 

20.  Subject  of  shall  rouse  f 

21.  blazing  Itearlh  fhall  hum.     What  figure? 

22.  evening  care.     Name  the  figure. 

23.  children.  Notice  that  this  is  a  double  plural.  Tl.e  old  fona 
was  childer,  to  which  lias  been  added  the  Anglo-Saxon  plural  ending 
en,  thus  making  the  word  childeren,  since  changed  to  childreiu 

23,  24.  Explain  the  force  of  the  infinitives  in  these  lines. 

25.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

26.  furrow  and  stubborn  glebe.     Explain  the  figures. 
has  broke.     Why  this  form  ? 

27.  a-field.     Explain. 

2S.  bowed  the  woods,  etc.     What  figure? 


112  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

8.  Let  not  Ambiti'm  mook  their  useful  toil, 

Tlieir  homely  joys,  and  destiny  obscure;  SO 

Nor  Grandeur  hear,  with  a  tlisdaiuful  smile, 
The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor. 

9.  The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power. 

And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealtli,  e'er  gave, 
Awaits  alike  the  inevitable  hour: —  85 

The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave. 

10    Nor  you,  ye  proud,  impute  to  these  the  fault, 
If  Memory  o'er  their  tomb  no  trophies  raise, 
Where,  through  the  long-drawn  aisle  and  fretted  vault, 

The  pealing  anthem  swells  the  note  of  praise.  40 

11.  Can  storied  urn  or  animated  bust 

Back  to  its  mansion  call  the  lleetinsc  breath? 


Analysis. — 29.  "What  figure  on  Ambition  t  In  what  mode  is  mockf 
Name  the  objects  of  mock. 

30.  What  is  the  effect  of  hj  in  such  words  as  homely  f 

31.  Ch'andeur.    What  figure  on  this  word? 
toil  and  smile.     Criticise  the  rhyme. 

33-35.  What  is  the  subject  of  the  sentence?  Many  edilions  give 
the  word  aivails  "await,"  on  the  suppositiun  that  lines  33  and  34 
constitute  the  subject. 

34.  Name  the  figures  in  the  line. 

35.  inevitable  hour.     What  is  tlie  mcaninj^  ? 

36.  but.  Grammatical  construction?    What  does  the  word  modify? 

37.  ye  proud.     Grammatical  construction  ? 

38.  Point  out  and  name  figures  in  the  line.  Name  the  modifiers 
of  raise. 

39.  40.  These  lines  refer  to  Wcslininstcr  Alihey,  because  of  its  being 
the  biirial-|)]ace  of  Chaucer,  Spenser,  Dryden,  and  others. 

39.  The  meaning  of /rW/er//     Meaning  of  mu/< .' 

41.  tloried,  painted  witli  stories,  usually  from  Scripture. 
storied  wn.     To  what  custom  does  this  refer? 

animated  bust.     Is  "  animated  "  aj^ood  word  in  referring  here  U> 
a  marble  hust  ? 

42.  PoiiU  out  the  figure  in  the  luie. 


THOMAS  GRAY. 


113 


Can  Honor's  voice  provoke  the  silent  dust, 
Or  Flattery  soothe  the  dull  cold  ear  of  Death  ? 

12.  Perhaps  in  this  neglected  spot  is  laid  45 

Some  heart  once  pregnant  with  celestial  fire ; 
Hands  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  swayed, 
Or  waked  to  ecstasy  the  living  lyre : 

13.  But  Knowledge  to  their  eyes  her  ample  page, 

Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne'er  unroll ;  50 

Chill  Penury  repressed  their  noble  rage, 
And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  soul. 

14.  Full  many  a  gem,  of  purest  ray  serene, 

The  dark  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear : 
Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen,  65 

And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

15.  Some  village  Hampden,  that  with  dauntless  breast 

The  little  tyrant  of  his  fields  withstood ; 


Notes. — 50.  unroll.  Volumes  of 
manuscript  were  formerly 
in  the  shape  of  a  roll. 

51.  "age,  inspii-ation. 

&c  purest  ray  serene.  This  is 
an  imitation  of  Milton's  fa- 
vorite arrangement  of  ad- 
jectives. 


57.  Hampden.  John  Hampden 
was  an  English  statesman 
and  patriot,  and  a  strong 
opponent  of  Charles  I.  Also, 
subsequently  a  leader  in  the 
Civil  War.  He  received 
his  death-wound  in  the 
fight  at  Chalgrove  Field. 


Analysis. — 43.  Honor's  voice.    What  figure? 

provoke,  meaning,  in  its  etymological  sense,  "  to  call  forth." 

silent  dust.     What  figure  ? 
44    Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

46,  Meaning  of  tlie  line?     Point  out  the  figure. 

47.  Disj)ose  of  tlie  words  Haicds  and  that. 

47  48.  Meaninj^  of  each  line?     Figure  in  each? 
49  50.  Point  out  the  figures. 
51    Chill  Penury.     What  figure? 
52.  froze  ....  current.     Meaning  and  figure? 
63.  Dispose  of  Full  antl  inany  a. 
65.  to  bliish  unseen.     Grummatical  construction  ? 
8 


114 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISU  LITERATURE. 


Some  mute  inglorious  Milton  here  may  rest, 
Some  Cromwell  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood.  60 

16.  Th'  applause  of  listening  senates  to  command, 

The  threats  of  pain  and  riiin  to  despise, 
To  scatter  plenty  o'er  a  smiling  land, 
And  read  their  history  in  a  nation's  eyes, 

17.  Their  lot  forbade:  nor  circumscribed  alone  66 

Their  growing  virtues,  but  their  crimes  confined ; 
Forbade  to  wade  through  slaughter  to  a  throne, 
And  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind, 

18.  The  struggling  pangs  of  conscious  truth  to  hide, 

To  quench  the  blushes  of  ingenuous  shame,  70 

Or  heap  the  shrine  of  Luxury  and  Pride 
With  incense  kindled  at  the  Muse's  tlame. 

19.  Far  from  the  madding  crowd's  ignoble  strife 

Their  sober  wishes  never  learned  to  stray; 
Along  the  cool,  sequestered  vale  of  life  75 

They  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their  way. 


Notes. — 66.  Their  growing  vir- 
tues, the  growth  of  their 
virtues. 


73.  madding,  furious. 

ignoble   strife,  dishonorable 
contention. 


Analysis. — 59.  What  is  meant  by  mxUe  inglorious  Milton  f 

Milton.     Who  waa  Milton? 
60.  WIio  was  OroniweU  f 

How  does  the  poet  imply  his  belief  in  Cromwell's  guilt? 
61-65.  Name  tlie  ph  raee-objecta  o{  forbade. 
64.  Give  the  mode  of  read. 
6^    circaniHO Hied.     Name  tiie  siibji-ct. 

67    Forbade.    What  is  the  snl>jeet?    Name  the  five  ithraae-o^i»M:to. 
67-72.  Name  the  modifiers  of  each  iiiliiiitive. 
70-72.  Name  tlie  fij^ures  in  tliese  lines. 
73.  What  doe«  the  line  modify? 
75.  vale  of  life.     What  figure? 

75,  76.  Express  the  two  lines  in  proae. 

76.  Mtuning  of  noisclasH  tenor  of  their  way  f 


THOMAS  GRAY.  116 

20   Yet  e'en  these  bones  from  insult  to  protect, 
Some  frail  memorial  still  erected  nigh, 
With  uncouth  rhymes  and  shapeless  sculpture  decked, 
Implores  the  passing  tribute  of  a  sigh.  80 

21.  Their  name,  their  years,  spelt  by  th'  unlettered  muse, 

Tlie  place  of  fame  and  elegy  supply. 

And  many  a  holy  text  around  she  strews, 

That  teacli  the  rustic  moralist  to  die. 

22.  For  who,  to  dumb  Forgetfulness  a  prey,  85 

This  pleasing  anxious  being  e'er  resigned, 
Left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day, 
Nor  cast  one  longing,  lingering  look  behind? 

23.  On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul  relies, 

Some  pious  drops  the  closing  eye  requires ;  90 

E'en  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  Nature  cries, 
E'en  in  our  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires. 

24.  For  thee,  who,  mindful  of  the  unhonored  dead. 

Dost  in  these  lines  their  artless  tale  relate ; 


Notes. — 77.  these  bones,  their  I  84.  to  die,  how  to  die. 

bones.  88.  Nor  cast ;  that  is,  did  not  cast. 

79.  uncouth,  rude.  93.  For  thee  ;  that  is,  as  for  thee. 


Analysis. — 77-80.  Write  the  stanza  in  prose. 
81.  ITieir  name.     To  what  does  Tlieir  refer? 

Meaning  of  unlellered  muse  f 
81,  82.  Predicate  of  the  sentence? 

84.  That  teach.     What  is  the  antecedent  of  That*     Should  the 
word  be  teach  or  teaches  f 
84.  Moaning  of  runtic  moralist  f 
85,86.  Rewrite  in  prose  order.    Graniniatical  cuiistruction  of  jjreyf 

87.  cheerful  day.     What  figure  ? 

88,  Give  tlie  syntax  of  the  word  behind. 

9C    What  is  the  meaning  of  pious  drops f     What  figure? 
91.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 
91,  92.  Explain  the  use  of  E'en. 

93.  Who  is  meant  by  thee  t 

94.  Give  the  meaning  of  artUaa 


116  STUDIES  ly  ENGLISH   LITERATURE. 

If  chance,  by  lonely  Contemplation  led,  90 

Some  kindred  spirit  shall  inquire  thy  fate ; 

26.       Haply  some  hoary-headed  swain  may  say, — 
"  Oft  have  we  seen  him  at  the  peep  of  dawn 
Brushing  with  hasty  steps  tlie  dews  away, 

To  meet  the  sun  upon  the  ujjland  lawn.  IM 

26.  "  There  at  the  foot  of  yonder  nodding  beech, 

That  wreathes  its  old  fantastic  roots  so  high, 
His  listless  length  at  noontide  would  he  stretch, 
And  pore  upon  the  brook  that  babbles  by. 

27.  "Hard  by  yon  wood,  now  smiling  as  in  scorn,  105 

Muttering  his  wayward  fancicis  he  would  rove ; 
Now  drooping,  woeful,  wan,  like  one  forlorn, 
Or  crazed  wnth  care,  or  crossed  in  hopeless  love 

28.  "  One  morn  I  missed  him  on  the  'customed  hill, 

Along  the  heath  and  near  his  favorite  tree;  110 

Another  came;  nor  yet  beside  the  rill. 
Nor  uj)  the  lawn,  nor  at  the  wood  was  he. 


NoTBS. — 95.   If  chance,   if  per-  j  105.  Hard  by,  close  by. 

chance.  I  111.  another      came,      auolher 

97.  Haply,  posaibly,  morn  came. 


Analysis. — 95.  by  lonely,  etc.     What  does  the  i)lirai>e  nuxlify? 

97.  hoary-headed.    Give  meaning. 
101-103.  Name  modifiers  of  stretch.     Is  beech  and  ulretch  a  good 
rhyme  ? 

103.  What  is  the  meaning  of  liglieas  lenf/lhf 

104.  Meaning  of  pore  in  this  line?     Point  out  the  fi>,niro  in  the 
line. 

105.  now  i<milmg,  eta     What  ihies  the  plir;i.se  nioilify? 

107.  now  dvdopiiKj,  etc.     Wh.-itdoes  this  jihrn.se  modify? 
(Jive  the  construction  of  like,     (iive  tlie  inciuiing  of  wan 

108.  cntzed  with  cure.     What  does  it  inodifv  ? 

109.  morn.     What  figure  of  orthography  is  tliis? 


THOMAS  QRAY.  117 

29.    "The  next,  with  dirges  due,  in  sad  array, 

Slow  through  the  churchway  path  we  saw  him  borne ; 
Approach  and  read  (for  thou  canst  read)  the  lay  115 

Graved  on  the  stone  beneath  yon  aged  thorn." 

THE   EPITAI'H. 

80,     Here  rests-,  his  head  upon  the  laj)  of  Earth, 

A  Youth,  to  Fortune  and  to  Fame  unknown ; 
Fair  Science  frowned  not  on  his  humble  birth, 

And  Melancholy  marked  him  for  her  own.  120 

31.  Large  was  his  bounty,  and  his  soul  sincere, 

Heaven  did  a  recompense  as  largely  send: 
He  gave  to  Misery  all  he  had, — a  tear, 

He  gained  from  Heaven  ('twas  all  he  wished)  a  friend. 

32.  No  farther  seek  his  merits  to  disclose,  125 

Or  draw  his  frailties  from  their  dread  abode 
(There  they  alike  in  trembling  hope  repose), 
The  bosom  of  his  Father  and  his  God. 


Note. — 114.  churchway:  this  is  likely  churchward. 


Analysis  — 113.   The  next.     What  word  is  understood? 

114.  slow.     Why  slow,  instead  of  dowlyf 

115.  [for  thou  canst  read).     Is  it  likely  that  the  "huary-headed 
Bwain  "  could  read? 

115.  the  lay.     What  does  it  mean  here? 

117.  lap  of  Earl h.     What  (igure? 

118.  Give  grammatical  coiistruction  of  Youth. 

119.  120.  Point  out  the  tigures. 

122.  larc/ely.     What  figure? 

123.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line.     Parse  tear. 

125.  No  farther.     Is  this  tlie  proper  form  ? 

126.  draw.     Give  granunatical  construction. 

dread  abode.     What  does  the  expression  mean? 


10.  SAMUEL    JOHNSON, 

1709-1784. 

Samuex  Johnson,  horn  in  Lichfield  on  tlie  18th  cf  Sep- 
tember, 1709,  was  the  son  of  a  poor  bookseller.  John- 
son was  a  sickl}'-  child  from  birth,  and  the  disease  with 
which  he  was  afflicted  (scrofula)  soon  marked  liim  for 
life.  His  early  education  was  gained  mostly  at  Stour- 
bridge, but  his  attendance  at  school  helped  him  less 
than  his  wonderful  memory  and  his  great  taste  for 
books.  In  liis  nineteenth  year  he  entered  Pembroke 
College,  Oxford,  but  he  never  graduated,  as  his  father 
died  and  he  lacked  the  means  to  pay  for  a  full  course 
of  instruction. 

Like  his  father,  he  was  the  victim  of  melancholy  and 
a  fear  of  insanity  that  constantly  haunted  him,  which 
he  says  kept  him  mad  half  his  life.  His  peculiar  dis- 
position led  liim  into  all  sorts  of  frolics  and  riots  while 
at  college,  and  lie  treated  few  with  respect,  or  even 
civility. 

After  leaving  college  he  trudged  to  ^Larket  Bosworth, 
in  Leicestershire,  where  he  became  usher  in  a  school. 
His  natural  temperament,  however,  unfitted  liiin  for 
this  work,  and  he  failed.  He  next  became  translator 
for  a  bookseller  in  Birmingham,  and  soon  thereafter 
married  a  Mrs.  Porter,  a  woman  of  little  taste  and 
alnjost  twice  his  own  age.  With  her  fortune  of  eight 
hundred  pounds  Johnson  attempted  to  start  a  school 
of  his  own,  but  lie  never  secured  a  sufiicient  number 
of  pupils  to  sui)port  himself  and  pay  the  rent.  Fail- 
ing again,  he  trudged  to  London  with  little  Davy  Gar- 

118 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  lib 

rick,  one  of  his  pu})ils  and  afterward  the  great  actor,  as 
his  companion,  in  searcli  of  literary  work.  After  reach- 
ing London  and  finding  employment,  the  pen  scarcely 
left  his  hand  for  twenty-six  years.  During  much  of  thia 
time  he  Avrote  for  the  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

His  first  claim  to  literary  fame  was  established  by  his 
poem  London^  written  in  imitation  of  Juvenal.  For  this 
poem  he  received  ten  guineas,  and  it  served  also  to  make 
him  a  favorite  with  the  booksellers.  In  1744  he  wrote 
theX?/e  of  Richard  Savage,  one  of  the  best  of  biograp'hies; 
and  three  years  later  he  pubHshed  a  satire  entitled  the 
Vanity  of  Human  Wiahes.  It  was  in  this  year  also  that  he 
began  the  prepanitiun  of  his  DlctloiLary  of  the  English 
Language,  which  occupied  his  time  and  attention  for 
eight  years,  and  for  which  he  was  to  receive  fifteen  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  pounds.  During  these  years  he 
also  carried  on  a  semi-weekly  paper  called  The  Jiambler, 
modeled  somewhat  after  Tlie  Spectator.  The  liambler, 
which  was  issued  from  1750  to  1752,  was  followed  by 
The  Idler,  a  more  readable  sheet,  which  also  was  issued 
for  two  years. 

In  1759,  Johnson  published  his  only  novel,  liasselas,  c 
Tale  of  Abyssinia.  His  Journey  to  the  Heb^'ides  was  writ- 
ten about  1773,  and  in  1781  TJie  Lives  of  the  Poets,  the  last 
of  his  important  works,  appeared. 

His  style  has  been  sj^oken  of  as  Johnsonese.  He  rarely 
used  a  simple  word  when  a  ponderous  classic  one  coula 
be  substituted.  It  is  said  tluit  he  would  sometimes  even 
correct  himself  in  conversation  and  translate  his  oral 
Bentences  into  more  classic  style.  Goldsmith  character- 
ized him  truthfully  wlien  he  said  lo  Johnson,  "  If  you 
Were  to  write  a  fable  about  little  fishes,  doctor,  you  would 
make  the  little  fishes  talk  like  whales." 

Johnson's  old  age  was  made  happy  by  an  annual 
pension  of  three  hundred  jjounds,  settled   on  him  by 


120  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

the  King  in  1762.  He  died  in  December,  1784,  and 
was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey  with  the  eminent 
poets  of  whom  he  had  been  the  biographer. 

CRITICISM   ("CHAMBERS'S  CYCLOPiEDIA"). 

No  prose-writer  of  that  day  escaped  the  contagion  of 
Johnson's  peculiar  style.  lie  l^anished  for  a  long  period 
the  naked  simplicity  of  Swift  and  the  idiomatic  graces 
of  Addison ;  he  dejiresscd  the  literature  and  poetry  of 
imagination,  while  he  elevated  that  of  the  understand- 
ing ;  he  based  criticism  on  strong  sense  and  solid  judg- 
ment, not  on  scholastic  subtleties  and  refinement;  and, 
though  some  of  the  higher  qualities  and  attributes  of 
genius  eluded  his  grasp  and  observation,  the  withering 
scorn  and  invective  with  which  he  assailed  all  affected 
sentimentalism,  immorality,  and  licentiousness  intro- 
duced a  pure  and  healthful  and  invigorating  atmo- 
sphere into  the  crowded  walks  of  literature As  a 

man,  Johnson  was  an  admirable  representative  of  the 
Englishman ;  as  an  author,  his  course  was  singularly 
pure,  high-minded,  and  independent.  Tie  could  boast, 
with  more  truth  than  Burke,  that  "  he  had  no  arts  but 
manly  arts."  At  every  step  in  his  progress  his  passport 
was  talent  and  virtue ;  and  when  the  royal  countenance 
and  favor  were  at  length  extended  to  him,  it  was  but  a 
ratification  by  the  sovereign  of  the  wishes  and  opinions 
entertained  by  the  best  and  wisest  of  the  nation. 

THE  VOYAGE  OF  LIFE. 
Note. — The  following  selection,  written  by  Dr.  Johnson,  is  taken 
firom  Th«  Rambler. 

''  Life,"  says  Seneca,  "  is  a  voyage,  in  the  progress  of 
wliich  we  are  perpetually  changing  our  scenes:  we  first 

Analysis. — 1.  voy<uje.     What  figure? 
2.  Meaning  of  sceru^  f 


SAMUEL   JOHNSON.  121 

leave  childhood  behind  us,  then  youth,  then  the  years 
of  ripened  manhood,  then  the  better  and  more  jjleasing 
part  of  old  age."  The  perusal  of  this  passage  having  5 
incited  in  me  a  train  of  reflections  on  the  state  of  man, 
tlie  incessant  fluctuation  of  his  vvislies,  the  gradual 
change  of  his  disposition  to  all  external  objects,  and 
the  thouglitlessness  witli  wliich  he  floats  along  the 
Stream  of  Time,  1  sank  into  a  slumber  amidst  my  med- 10 
itations,  and  on  a  sudden  found  my  ears  filled  with  the 
tumult  of  labor,  the  shouts  of  alacrity,  the  shrieks  of 
alarm,  the  whistle  of  winds,  and  the  dash  of  waters. 

My  astonishment  for  a  time  repressed  my  curiosity ; 
but  soon  recovering  myself  so  far  as  to  inquire  whither  15 
we  were  going,  and  what  was  the  cause  of  such  clamor 
and  confusion,  1  was  told  that  they  were  launching  out 
into  the  Ocean  of  Life;  that  we  had  already  passed  the 
Straits  of  Infancy,  in  which  multitudes  had  perished,' 
some  by  the  weakness  and  fragility  of  their  vessels,  and  20 
more  by  the  folly,  perverseness,  or  negligence  of  those 
who  undertook  to  steer  them ;  and  that  we  were  now 
on  the  main  sea,  abandoned  to  the  winds  and  billows, 
without  any  other  means  of  security  than  the  care  of 
the  pilot,  whom  it  was  always  in  our  power  to  choose  25 


Analysis. — 5.  perused.    Give  grammatical  cont>tniction. 

0.  thon/jhtlexxneag.     Give  graiiimatical  ('onstruction. 
10.  Sti-eam  of  Time.     W'liat  ti^ure? 
11    on  a  wchlen.     Substitute  a  single  word. 

Jilled.     CJiive  tlie  gniiiuiiatical  const nu'tion. 
13k  whistle  of  wiiulu,  <uul  the  (/«.s7t  of  waters.     Point  out  the  figure 
15.  recovering,  etc.     Wliat  does  the  phrase  moilify? 

18,  Ocean  of  Life.     Name  the  figure. 

19.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

20.  Explain  the  figure  in  this  line. 
23.  main  sea.     What  figure  ? 

23.  Point  out  anoiiier  figure  in  the  line. 

21,  25.  the.  care  of  the  pilot.     What  figure? 


122         STUDIES  IN  EyCLlSn    LITERATURE 

among  great  numbers  that  offered  their  direction  and 
assistance. 

I  then  looked  round  with  anxious  eagerness,  and, 
first  turning  my  eyes  behind  me,  saw  a  stream  flowing 
through  flowery  islands,  which  every  one  tliat  sailed  3( 
along  seemed  to  behold  with  pleasure,  but  no  sooner 
touched  than  the  current,  which,  though  not  noisy  or 
turbulent,  was  yet  irresistible,  bore  him  away.  Beyond 
these  islands,  all  was  darkness ;  nor  could  any  of  the 
passengers  describe  the  shore  at  which  he  first  em- 35 
barked. 

Before  me,  and  on  each  side,  was  an  expanse  of 
waters  violently  agitated,  and  covered  witli  so  thick  a 
mist  that  the  most  perspicacious  eye  could  see  but  a 
little  way.  It  appeared  to  be  full  of  rocks  and  whirl-  40 
pools ;  for  many  sank  unexpectedly  while  they  were 
courting  the  gale  Avith  full  sails,  and  insulthig  those 
whom  they  had  left  behind.  So  numerous,  indeed, 
were  the  dangers,  and  so  tliick  the  darkness,  that  no 
caution  could  confer  security.  Yet  there  were  many  45 
who,  by  false  intelligence,  betrayed  their  followers  into 
whirlpools,  or,  by  violence,  pushed  those  whom  they 
found  in  their  way  against  the  rocks. 

The  current  was  invariable  and  insurmountable;  but 
though  it  was  impossible  to  sail  against  it,  or  to  return  50 
to  the  place  that  was  once  ])assed,  yet  it  was  not  so  vio- 
lent as  to  allow  no  op])ortunities  for  dexterity  or  cour- 


Anai^YSIS. — 29.  tnrninfj,  etc.     What  does  llie  plira-se  inoilify? 

30.  Name  tlie  figiire^s  in  tfie  line. 

31.  Parse  aiong.     What  (JKure  in  tlie  line? 

32.  touched,  etc.     What  is  tlie  Biihject  ? 
39.  Meaning  of  p<T8/)icac/o«s?     Parse  6u<. 

42.  courting  the  f](de.     What  figure  V 

43.  Give  grammatical  conbtniclion  of  the  w  jn'  behirA. 
49    E-Nplaiii  t'le  ligiire  on  cnrrfiU. 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  123 

age,  since,  though  none  could  retreat  back  from  danger, 
yet  they  might  often  avoid  it  by  oblique  direction. 

It  was,  however,  not  very  common  to  steer  with  much  55 
care  or  prudence ;   for,  by  some  universal  infatuation, 
every  man  appeared  to  think  himself  safe,  though  he 
saw  his  consorts  every  moment  sinking  round  him ;  and 
no  sooner  had  the  waves  closed  over  them  than  their 
fate  and  misconduct   were   forgotten;   the  voyage  was  60 
pursued  with  the  same  jocund  confidence :  every  man 
congratulated  himself  upon  the  soundness  of  his  vessel, 
and  believed  himself  able   to   stem   the  whirlpool  in 
which  his  friend  was  swallowed,  or  glide  over  the  rocks 
on  which  he  was  dashed.     Nor  was  it  often  observed  65 
that  the  sight  of  a  wreck  made  any  man  change  his 
course :  if  he  turned  aside  for  a  moment,  he  soon  for- 
got th'^  rudder,  and  left  himself  again  to  the  disposal 
of  chance. 

This  negligence  did  not  proceed  from  indifference,  or  70 
from  weariness  of  their  present  condition ;  for  not  one 
of  those  who  thus  rushed  upon  destruction  failed,  when 
he  was  sinking,  to  call  loudly  upon  his  associates  for 
that  help  which  could  not  now  be  given  him ;  and 
many  spent  their  last  moments  in  cautioning  others  75 
against  the  folly  by  wliich  they  were  intercepted  in  the 
midst  of  their  course.  Their  benevolence  was  some- 
tim'ss  praised ;  but  their  admonitions  were  unregarded. 

Analysis. — 53.  retreat  back.     Criticise. 

53,  54.  Point  out  the  figure  iu  tliese  lines. 

55.  (iive  the  meaning  of  this  line. 

57.  Dispose  of  the  word  sd/e. 

61-65.  every  man,  etc.     Exj)lain  the  meaning  of  thebe  lines. 

63.  stem  the  whirlpool.     Wlial  figure? 

64.  (jlide  over  the  rockx.     Wiiat  tigiire? 

65.  60.  Point  out  tlie  figure  in  tiiese  lines. 
68.   What  figure  in  the  line? 

72.  rushed  M]>on  deMr  act  ion.     What  figure? 


124         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

The  vessels  in  which  they  had  embarked,  being  con- 
fessedly unequal  to  the  turbulence  of  the  Stream  of  SO 
Life,  were  visibl}^  impaired  in  the  course  of  the  voj'age; 
80  that  every  passenger  was  certain,  that  how  long  soever 
hfe  might,  by  favorable  accidents  or  by  incessant  vigil- 
ance, be  preserved,  lie  must  sink  at  last. 

This  necessity  of  perishing  might  have  been  expected  85 
to  sadden  the  gay  and  intimidate  the  daring,  at  least  to 
keep  the  melancholy  and  timorous  in  jun'petual  torments, 
and  liinder  tliem  fi'om  any  enjoyment  of  tlie  varieties 
and  gratifications  whicli  Nature   offered  them   as   the 
solace  of  their  labor.     Yet,  in  effect,  none  seemed  less  90 
to  ex])ect  destruction  than  those  to  whom  it  was  most 
dreadful ;  they  all  had  the  art  of  concealing  their  dan- 
gers from  themselves ;    and  those  who  knew  their  in- 
ability to  bear  the  siglit  of  the  terrors  that  embarrassed 
their  way  took  care  never  to  look  forward,  but  found  95 
some  amusement  for  the  present  moment,  and  generally 
entertained  themselves  by  playing  with  Hope,  who  was 
the  constant  associate  of  the  Voyage  of  Life. 

Yet  all  that  Hope  ventured  to  promise,  even  to  those 
whom  she  favored  most,  was,  not  that  they  should  escape,  100 
but  that  they  should  sink  at  last;  and  witli  this  ])romise 
every  one  was  satisfied,  thougli  he  lauglicd  at  tlie  rest 
for  seeming  to  l>elieve  it.  Hope,  indeed,  apparently 
mocked  the  credulity  of  her  companions;  for,  in  ])ro- 


Analysis. — 81,  82.  voyage  ....  every  jiaitseiiijer.     What  figuree? 
82.  Parse  how  and  merer. 
So.  Name  the  infinitive  modifiers  of  erpeded. 

89.  Wiiat  fifoire  on  Nature? 

90.  What  does  le»s  modify  ? 

97,98.  Hope  ....  cfKOciule.     Wliat  fij?nre«? 

99.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  even. 
100.  nhefovnred,  etc.     What  figure? 
104.   Meaning  of  cre^iUilyf 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  125 

portion  as  their  vessels  grew  leaky,  she  redoubled  her  103 
assurances  of  safety :  and  none  were  more  busy  in  mak- 
ing provisions  for  a  long  voyage  than  they  whom  all 
but  themselves  saw  likely  to  perish  soon  by  irreparable 
decay. 

In  the  midst  of  the  Current  of  Life  was  the  Gulf  of  110 
Intemperance — a  dreadful  whirlpool,  interspersed  with 
rocks,  of  which  the  pointed  crags  were  concealed  under 
water,  and  the  tops  covered  with  herbage  on  which  Ease 
spread  couches  of  repose,  and  with  shades  where  Pleas- 
ure warbled  the  song  of  invitation.  Within  sight  of  these  115 
rocks  aU  who  sailed  on  the  Ocean  of  Life  must  neces- 
sarily pass.  Reason,  indeed,  was  always  at  hand  to  steer 
the  passengers  through  a  narrow  outlet  by  which  they 
might  escape ;  but  very  few  could,  by  her  entreaties  or 
remonstrances,  be  induced  to  put  the  rudder  into  her  120 
hand  without  stipulating  that  she  should  approach  so 
near  unto  the  rocks  of  Pleasure  that  they  might  solace 
themselves  with  a  short  enjoyment  of  that  delicious 
region ;  after  which  they  always  determined  to  pursue 
their  course  without  any  other  d(!viation.  12J 

Reason  was  too  often  prevailed  upon  so  far  by  these 
promises  as  to  venture  her  charge  within  the  eddy  of  the 


Analysis. — 105.  vessels  grew  leaky.     Explain  tlie  figure. 
106-109.  Twne  wei-e  ....  deaiy.     Analyze. 

110.  Name  the  figures  in  this  line. 

111,  112.  whirlpool  and  rocks.     Explain  the  figures. 
113.  I'oint  out  the  figure. 

113,  114.  Ease  ....  couches  of  repose.     What  figures? 

114,  115.  shades  where  Pleasure,  etc.     Explain  the  figure* 

117.  What  figure  on  Reason* 

118.  narrow  outlet.     What  figure? 
119    Parse  but  very  few. 

120,  \21.  Point  out  the  figure  in  tlieae  lines. 
123.124.  delicious  region.     What  figure? 
126.  prevailed  upon.     Parse. 


12B  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Gulf  of  Tiitemperance,  where,  indeed,  the  circumvolution 
was  weak,  but  yet  interrupted  the  course  of  the  vessel, 
and  drew  it  by  insensible  rotations  toward  the  centre.  loO 
Slie  tlien  repented  her  temerity,  and,  with  all  her  force, 
endeavored  to  retreat:  but  the  drauy;ht  of  the  gulf  was 
generally  too  strong  to  be  overcome ;  and  the  passenger, 
having  danced  in  circles  with  a  jileasing  and  giddy  ve- 
locity, was  at  last  overwhelmed  and  lost.  Those  few  135 
whom  Reason  was  aljle  to  extricate  generally  suffered 
so  many  shocks  upon  the  points  which  shot  out  from 
the  rocks  of  Pleasure,  tliat  tliey  were  unable  to  continue 
their  course  with  the  same  strength  and  facility  as  before, 
but  floated  along  timorously  and  feebly,  endangered  by  140 
every  breeze,  and  sliattered  by  every  ruflie  of  the  water, 
till  they  sank  by  slow  degrees,  after  long  struggles  and 
innumerable  expedients,  always  repining  at  their  own 
folly,  and  warning  others  against  the  first  approach  to 
the  Gulf  of  Intemperance.  145 

There  were  artists  who  professed  to  repair  the  breaches 
and  stop  the  leaks  of  the  vessels  which  had  been  shat- 
tered on  the  rocks  of  Pleasure.  Many  ai)peared  to  have 
great  confidence  in  their  skill;  and  some,  indeed,  were 
preserved  by  it  from  sinking  who  had  received  only  a  15C 
single  blow ;  but  I  remarked  that  few  vessels  lasted  long 
which  had  been  much  repaired  ;  nor  was  it  found  that 
the  artists  themselves  continued  afloat  longer  than  those 
who  had  least  of  their  assistance. 


Anai^ysis. — 128,  129.  circumvolution  i/a.s  weak.     What  figure T 

132.  the  fbaughl,  etc.     P^xplain  the  figure. 

134.  Wliat  does  the  phrase  having  danced,  etc.  niudify  i' 

141.  Point  out  the  (iguree  in  the  line. 

144.  fiml  approcuih.     Name  the  figure 

146.  artists  .  .  .  .  lo  repair  the  breaches.     What  figures? 

147,  148.  Name  the  figures  in  these  lines. 

lol,  152.  vessels  ....  much  repaired.     What  figure? 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  1  27 

The  only  advantage  which,  in  the  Voyage  of  Life,  the  16A 
cautious  had  above  the  negligent,  was  that  they  sank 
later  and  more  suddenly ;  for  they  passed  forward  till 
they  had  sometimes  seen  all  those  in  whose  company 
they  had  issued  from  tlie  Straits  of  Infancy  perish  in 
the  way,  and  at  last  were  overset  by  a  cross-breeze,  with-  160 
out  the  toil  of  resistance  or  tlie  anguish  of  expectation. 
But  such  as  had  often  fallen  against  the  rocks  of  Pleas- 
ure commonly  subsided  by  sensible  degrees,  contended 
long  with  the  encroaching  waters,  and  harassed  them- 
selves by  labors  that  scarce  Hope  herself  could  flatter  165 
with  success. 

As  I  was  looking  upon  the  various  fate  of  the  multi- 
tude about  me,  I  was  suddenly  alarmed  with  an  ad- 
monition from  some  unknown  Power:  "Gaze  not  idly 
upon  others  when  thou  thyself  art  sinking.  Whence  170 
is  this  thoughtless  tranquillity,  when  thou  and  they  are 
equally  endangered  ?"  I  looked,  and,  seeing  the  Gulf 
of  Intemperance  before  me,  started  and  awaked. 


Analysis. — 157.  Parse  forward  and  till. 

IGO.  were  oveiset.     Explain  the  tigure. 

162.  Explain  the  line  and  name  tlie  figures. 

164.  eTKrroacking  waters.     Kxjjlain  and  name  the  figure. 

165.  DiHpose  of  the  word  scarce. 

167.  various  fate.     Give  a  modern  form. 

172.  Dispose  of  seeing.     What  does  the  participial  phrase  modify? 

173.  E.xplaiu  the  figure  in  thij  line. 


11.  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH, 

1728-1774. 

Oliver  Goldsmith,  the  most  charming  and  versatile 
«<riter  of  his  time,  was  born  in  the  county  of  Longford, 
Ireland,  November  14,  1728.  His  father  was  a  Prot- 
estant clergyman,  who  was  then  located  in  the  little 
village  of  Pallas.  In  boyhood  Oliver  attended  various 
schools,  and  in  1745  he  passed  the  examination  which 
admitted  him  as  a  sizar  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 
The  sizar  of  those  da3's  was  clad  in  a  sleeveless  gown 
made  of  coarse  material,  and  a  red  cap.  A  part  of  his 
school-expenses  were  paid  by  his  doing  the  work  of  a 
servant — sweeping  the  courts,  carrying  the  dishes  back 
and  forth  from  the  kitchen  to  the  students'  dining-rooms, 
and  other  work  of  tliis  character.  Goldsmith  was  sensi- 
tive, and  his  position  as  a  sizar  was  by  no  means  con- 
genial to  him.  His  uncle,  who  had  assisted  him  in  the 
payment  of  liis  school-bills  while  preparing  for  college, 
befriended  him  also  while  in  college.  But  when  Gold- 
smith's father  died  in  1747,  the  young  poet  was  left  not 
only  penniless,  but  also  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  It 
was  at  this  j^eriod  of  his  life  that  he  began  to  write 
ballads,  for  wiiich  he  received  five  shillings  apiece, 
and  many  a  night  he  stole  out  from  his  quarters  and 
watched  their  sale  on  the  streets.  Here,  too,  lie  showed 
that  weakness  fur  being  indiscriminately  benevolent 
which  characterized  his  whole  life,  and  it  was  a  rare 
thing  that  he  succeeded  in  bringing  his  money  back 
with  him.  He  almost  invarialdy  gave  it  up  to  such  im- 
pecunious students  or  street-beggars  as  ho  met  on  the 

118 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  129 

way.  Goldsmith's  scholarship  was  superficial,  and  he 
took  liis  degree  at  Trinity  in  1749  very  low  down  in  the 
class,  after  which  he  returned  to  his  home,  where  he 
spent  two  years. 

His  life,  measured  by  the  standard  of  the  present 
century,  would  be  considered  a  melancholy  failure.  In 
1752  he  went  to  Edinburgh,  where  he.  remained  almost 
two  years,  studying  medicine.  He  next  spent  a  winter 
in  Leyden,  supporting  himself  by  teaching  English. 
We  next  find  him  at  Padua,  where  he  claims  to  have 
received  the  degree  M.  B.,  which  gave  him  the  title  Dr. 
Goldsmith.  We  then  find  him  traveling  through  Flan- 
ders, France,  Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Italy  on  foot, 
playing  on  his  flute  at  night  to  pay  for  his  supper,  and 
lodging  at  the  peasants'  cottages. 

When  he  returned  to  England  he  first  acted  as  assist- 
ant' in  a  chemist's  shop,  then  attempted  to  follow  his 
profession  as  a  physician,  and  finally  found  employ- 
ment with  a  bookseller,  who  proposed  to  give  him  his 
board  and  a  small  salary  to  write  for  the  Monthly  Review. 
He  soon,  however,  tired  of  this  work,  and  went  back  to 
his  usher-life  at  Dr.  Milner's  school  at  Peckham.  He 
next  presented  himself  as  a  candidate  for  the  position 
of  surgei-n's  mate  in  the  navy,  dressed  in  a  suit  of 
clothes  borrowed  for  the  occasion.  He  was  rejected, 
however,  and  instead  of  returning  the  clothes  he  pawned 
them. 

Failing  in  everything  else,  he  at  last  settled  down  to 
authorship  as  a  means  of  livelihood.  He  wrote  many 
articles  for  reviews  and  magazines,  but  his  first  marked 
success  as  an  author  was  The  Traveler,  published  in 
1764,  though  his  Chinese  Letters  had  attracted  consider- 
able attention  several  years  before. 

In  17GG  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  a  novel,  appeared,  and 
in  1770  The  Deserted  Village,  supposed  to  be  (lescrij)tive 


130         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

of  the  life  and  incidents  in  the  village  of  Lissoy,  where 
he  spent  his  boyhood  days.  These  three  are  his  most 
famous  literary  works,  though  he  compiled  a  Roman 
History^  a  History  of  England,  a  History  of  Greece,  and  a 
History  of  Animated  Nature.  He  wrote  also  several  com- 
edies, She  Stooj)s  to  Conquer  being  the  best.  While  all 
his  books,  particularly  his  historical  works,  show  super- 
ficial scholarship,  they  are  still  characterized  by  Gold- 
smith's admirable  style. 

Goldsmith  was  improvident,  and  his  money  was  spent 
a  great  deal  more  rapidly  than  he  made  it.  At  the  time 
of  his  death,  though  he  had  an  annual  income  of  nearly 
two  thousand  pounds,  he  found  himself  heavily  encum- 
bered with  ever-increasing  debts.  He  died  April  4, 1774, 
and  was  quietly  buried  in  tlie  Temple  churchyard. 

CRITICISiM  BY  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 
There  are  few  writers  for  whom  the  reader  feels  such 
personal  kindness  as  for  Oliver  (Joldsmitli,  for  few  have 
so  eminently  possessed  the  magic  gift  of  identifying 
themselves  with  their  writings.  We  read  his  character 
in  every  page,  and  grow  into  familiar  intimacy  with  him 
as  we  read.  The  artless  benevolence  that  beams  through- 
out his  works ;  the  whimsical  yet  amiable  views  of  hu- 
man life  and  human  nature;  the  unforced  humor,  blend- 
ing so  happily  with  good  feeling  and  good  sense,  and 
singularly  dashed  at  times  with  a  pleasing  melancholy ; 
even  the  very  nature  of  his  mellow  and  flowing  and  soft- 
ly-tinted style, — all  seem  to  bespeak  his  moral  as  well 
as  his  intellectual  qualities,  ai\(l  make  us  love  the  man 
at  the  same  time  that  we  admire  the  author. 

THE    DESERTED    VILLA(;E. 
NoTK. — It  is  generally  considered  that  the  village  here  Hjtoken  of 
waa  the  vill.age  of  Liwoy,  in  which  GoklMiiilh  Kpcnl  his  childliood 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  131 

Washington  Irving  says  tliat  General  Napier  turned  out  all  the  ten- 
ants in  order  to  add  the  farms  to  his  private  grounds,  and  that  Cap- 
tain Ilogan  afterward  restored  the  place  to  its  previous  condition  in 
order  to  correspond  with  Goldsmith's  description.  Macaulay,  how- 
ever, says  that  the  village  never  existed  elsewhere  than  in  the  imag- 
ination of  the  poet,  and  that  the  prosperous  village  is  the  description 
of  an  English  village,  while  in  its  desolated  condition  it  represent 
an  Irish  village. 


Sweet  Auburn  1  loveliest  village  of  the  plain, 

Where  health  and  plenty  cheer'd  the  laboring  swain, 

Where  smiling  Spring  its  earliest  visit  paid. 

And  parting  Summer's  lingering  blooms  delay'd; 

Dear  lovely  bowers  of  innocence  and  ease,  5 

Seats  of  my  youth,  when  every  sport  could  please. 

How  often  have  I  loiter'd  o'er  thy  gr^en, 

Where  humble  happiness  endear'd  each  scene  I 

How  often  have  I  paused  on  every  charm, 

The  shelter'd  cot,  the  cultivated  farm,  10 

The  never-failing  brook,  the  busy  mill. 

The  decent  church  that  topp'd  the  neighboring  hill, 

The  hawthorn  bush,  with  seats  beneath  the  shade. 

For  talking  a^e  and  whispering  lovers  made  I 


Analysis. — 1.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  Auburn  and 
tUlaxje. 

2.  health  and  plenty  cheei-'d.     What  figure  ? 

3.  sinilinc;  Spriiu/.     What  figure  ? 

4.  partin(j  Sumnier's  lingering  bluoms,  etc.     What  figure  ?  ■ 

5.  Meaning  and  construction  of  bowers  in  this  line  ? 
Wiiat  figure  in  the  line? 

7^  8.  Name  the  modifiers  of  loitei'^d. 
9-14.  Name  the  modifiers  of  have  paused. 
9.  What  words  in  apposition  with  charm  f 
10.  Meaning  of  cotf 

12.  Meaning  ol  decent? 

13.  Name  modifiers  of  seats. 

14.  talking  age.     What  figure? 


132  STUDIES   IN   ENGLISJT  LITERATURE. 

How  often  have  I  bless'd  tlie  coming  day,  Ifi 

When  toil  remitting  lent  its  turn  to  play, 

And  all  the  village  train,  from  labor  free, 

Led  uj)  their  sports  beneath  the  spreading  tree, 

While  many  a  pastime  circled  in  the  shade, 

The  young  contending  as  the  old  survcy'd  ;  20 

And  many  a  gambol  frolick'd  o'er  the  ground, 

And  sleights  of  art  and  feats  of  strength  wont  round; 

And  still  as  each  repeated  pleasure  tire<l, 

Succeeding  sports  the  mirthful  band  inspired; 

The  dancing  pair  that  simply  sought  renown,  25 

By  holding  out,  to  tire  each  other  down  ; 

The  swain  mistrustless  of  his  smutted  face, 

While  secret  laughter  titter'd  round  the  jtlace; 

The  bashful  virgin's  sidelong  looks  of  love, 

The  matron's  glance  that  would  tliose  looks  reprove.  30 

These  were  thy  charms,  sweet  village  1  sports  like  these. 

With  sweet  succession,  taught  e'en  toil  to  please ; 

These  round  thy  bowers  their  cheerful  influence  shed; 

These  were  thy  charms, — but  all  these  charms  are  fled  I 

Sweet  smiling  village,  loveliest  of  the  lawn,  35 

Thy  sports  are  fled,  and  all  thy  charms  withdrawn. 


Notes. — 16.  toil  remitting,   toil  I  19.  circled,  went  round, 
ceaaing.  |  20.  survey 'd,  looked  on. 

Analysis. — 16.  lent  Us  turn  to  play.    Meaning? 
17.  Meaning  of  all  the  tnllage  train  f     What  figure? 

21.  mnny  a  (jamholfrolic/i^d.     Explain. 

22.  Meaning  of  went  round  f 

23.  Dispose  of  Ktill.     Name  the  ol)je('t  of  tired. 

25.  Wiiat  does  tlie  word  simply  modify? 

26.  holdiiuj  oat.     Uive  graimualical  construction. 

27.  (live  tlie  meaning  of  iiiixlniatlc.'iK  and  sinutlaL 

29.  Meaning?  of  sidclonyf 

32.  e'en  loll.    Dispone  of  e'en.  (See  Kaub'a  Gramuuu ,  \>.  208,  note  1.) 

33.  Write  tliis  line  in  prose  order. 
84.  are  fled.     Give  the  modern  form. 

30.  smiling  village.     What  figure? 
36.  withdrawn.      P^xplain. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  133 

Amidst  thy  bowers  the  tyrant's  hand  is  seen^ 

And  desolation  saddens  all  thy  green: 

One  only  master  granps  the  whole  domain, 

And  half  a  tillage  stints  thy  smiling  plain.  40 

No  more  thy  glassy  brook  reflects  the  day, 

But,  choked  with  sedges,  works  its  weary  way. 

Along  thy  glades,  a  solitary  giiest. 

The  hollow-dounding  bittern  guards  its  nest; 

Amidst  thy  desert-walks  the  lapwing  flies,  iS 

And  tires  their  echoes  with  unvaried  cries; 

Sunk  are  tiiy  bowers  in  shapeless  ruin  all ; 

And  the  long  grass  o'ertops  the  mouldering  wall ; 

And  trembling,  shrinking  from  the  spoiler's  hand, 

Far,  far  away,  thy  children  leave  the  land.  60 

III  fares  the  land,  to  hastening  ills  a  prey. 

Where  wealtli  acouinulates  and  men  decay: 

Princes  and  lords  may  flourish  or  may  fade 

(A  breath  can  make  them,  as  a  breath  has  made) ; 

But  a  bold  peasantry,  their  country's  pride,  65 

When  once  destroy'd,  can  never  be  supplied. 


NoTKS. — 39.  one  only,  one  single    45.  desert,  deserted. 


or  sole. 

40.  stints,  etc.,  deprives  of  fruit- 
fulness. 


49.  the  spoiler's  hand.  This  re«- 
fers  to  the  oppression  of  the 
extensive  landiiulJers. 


Analysis. — 38.  rlesohUion  saddens  ....  green,     Wlial  figure? 

40.  Dispose  of  half  a. 

41,  42.  E.Kplain  the  meaning  of  these  lines. 

43,  44.  Meaning  of  bittern f     Give  grammatical   construction   (J 
guest  and  bittern. 

47.  Rewrite  in  prose  order. 

48   o'ertops.     Explain  the  use  of  the  apostrophe. 

51.  Parse  HI  and  ills. 

52.  Moaning  of  decay  here?     Rewrite  the  line  in  prose. 
53^-56.  Explain  these  lines.     Is  »na!/ /ac/e  literal  or  figurative? 
54.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

65.   Meaning  of  a  bold  peasantry? 


134  STUDIES  IN  EXGLISH  LITERATURE. 

A  time  there  was,  ere  England's  griefs  began, 
When  every  rood  of  ground  maintaiu'd  its  man: 
For  him  light  Labor  spread  her  wholesome  store, 
Just  gave  what  life  required,  but  gave  no  more;  60 

Ilis  best  companions,  innocence  and  health; 
And  his  best  riches,  ignorance  of  wealth. 

But  times  are  altor'd  :  Trade's  unfeeling  train 
Usurp  the  land,  and  dispossess  the  swain. 
Along  the  lawn  where  scatter'd  hamlets  rose,  M 

Unwieldy  wealth  and  cumbrous  pomp  repose, 
And  every  want  to  luxnry  allied. 
And  every  pang  tliat  folly  pays  to  y>ride. 
Tliose  gentle  hours  tlial  I'lenly  l)ade  to  bloom  ; 
Those  calm  desires  that  ask'd  but  little  room  ;  70 

Those  healthful  sports  that  graced  the  ]ieaceful  sceno, 
liived  in  ench  look,  and  i)righten'd  all  the  green, — 
These,  far  departing,  seek  a  kinder  shore; 
And  rural  mirtii  and  manners  are  no  more. 

Sweet  Auburn,  ])arent  of  the  blissful  hour!  76 

Thy  glades  Ibrlorn  confess  the  tyrant's  power. 
Here  as  I  take  my  solitary  rounds 
Amidst  thy  tangling  walks  and  ruin'd  grounds, 


Norns. — 5S.    maintain'd,      sup- 

porled. 
fi."),   lawn,  plain. 
76.  confess,  slmw. 


70.  the   tyrant's  power.      This 

silso    rt'fVi-8  to  the   ojipres- 

siiiii  of  the  extensive  Isiul- 
lidldors. 


ANAr.YSis. — 57.  Dis])ose  of  there  and  ere. 

59.  li(/ht  L'ibnr,  elc.     Wluil  lij,Mir('V 

60.  Jud  ifur,  etc.     SIioiiM  this  iioi  he  (juvcjuj^t,  etc.? 

61.  Ct'l.  Supply  the  ellipsi>i. 

63.  ure  alter' d.     (iive  present  form. 
63,  64.  \Vlia«,  figure  in  these  lines? 

66.  "NVliat  fig  ire  in  this  line? 

67,  68.  Dispose  of  want  and  jxing. 
69.  Plenty  bade.     What  figure? 

69-71.  (live  construction  of  hourx,  demres,  leporiM. 

76.  gin dcs  forlorn.     DisjjORc  of /or/orn. 

77.  What  does  Here  modify? 

Give  the  meaning  of  take  my  solitary  rounds. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  1^ 

And,  many  a  year  elapsed,  return  to  view 
Where  once  the  cottage  stood,  the  hawi^horn  grew, 
Remembrance  wakes  with  all  her  busy  train,^ 
Swells  at  my  breast,  and  turns  the  past  to  pain. 

In  all  my  wanderings  round  this  world  of  care, 
In  all  my  griefs— and  God  has  given  my  share— 
I  still  had  hopes,  my  latest  hours  to  crown. 
Amidst  these  humble  bowers  to  lay  me  down ; 
To  husband  out  life's  taper  at  the  close, 
And  keep  the  flame  from  wasting  by  repose; 
T  still  had  hopes,  for  pride  attends  us  still, 
Amidst  the  swains  to  show  my  book-learn'd  skill, 
Around  my  fire  an  evening  group  to  draw, 
And  tell  of  all  I  felt,  and  all  I  saw  ; 
And,  as  a  hare  whom  hounds  and  horns  pursue, 
Pant's  to  the  place  from  whence  at  first  he  flew, 
I  still  had  hopes,  my  long  vexations  past, 
Here  to  return,- and  die  at  home  at  last. 

O  blest  retirement,  friend  to  life's  decline. 
Retreats  from  care,  that  never  must  be  mine! 
How  blest  is  he  who  crowns,  in  shades  like  these, 
A  youth  of  labor  with  an  age  of  ease ; 
Who  quits  a  world  where  strong  temptations  try. 
And,  since  'tis  hard  to  combat,  learns  to  fly! 
For  him  no  wretches,  born  to  work  and  weep. 
Explore  the  mine  or  tempt  the  dangerous  deep ; 

Analysis.— 79.  Dispose  of  e/upwrf.  _ 

8i.  Eemer,U,rance  ....  train.   Explain  the  line  and  give  the  figur«>. 
87.   Tohu.-ibandoullif^slui>cr.     What  figure'/ 
90.  Transpose  this  line. 
92.  Dispose  of  Idt. 

93  94    Criticise  these  lines  according  to  modern  usage 
95^  96.  These  two  lines  seem  to  express  what  has  before  been  ex- 
pres.':*d  ii  lines  83-88. 

97.  U  blest  retirement.     What  figure? 

98.  must.     Wo\ild  the  word  mn  express  the  meaning  here? 

99.  who  ci-oxms,  etc.     What  figiu-es? 
101,  102.  Explain  these  lines. 
103.  To  what  does  him  refer? 


80 


86 


90 


96 


100 


180 


STUDIES  IN  EXGLTSIT  LITERATURE. 


Nor  surly  porter  stands  in  guilty  state,  lOl 

To  spurn  imj)loring  famine  from  the  gate: 

Ba'.  on  he  moves  to  meet  his  latter  end, 

Angels  around  befriending  Virtue's  friend  ; 

Sinks  to  the  grave  with  unperceived  decay, 

While  resignation  gently  slopes  the  way;  IIC 

And,  all  his  prospects  brightening  to  the  last, 

His  Heaven  commences  ere  the  world  be  past. 

Sweet  was  the  sound,  when  oft,  at  evening's  close, 
V])  yonder  hill  the  village  murmur  rose; 

There,  as  I  pass'd  with  careless  steps  and  slow,  115 

The  mingling  notes  came  soften'd  from  below : 
The  swain  re-sponsive  as  the  milkmaid  sung, 
The  sober  herd  that  low'd  to  meet  their  young. 
The  noisy  geese  that  gabbled  o'er  the  pool. 
The  playl'ul  children  just  let  loose  :*''"(»m  school,  120 

The  watch-dog's  voice  that  bay'd  the  whispering  wind, 
And  the  loud  laugh  that  spoke  the  vacant  mind, — 
These  all  in  sweet  confusion  sought  the  shade. 
And  fill'd  each  pause  the  nightingale  had  made. 
But  now  the  sounds  of  population  fail ;  125 

No  cheerful  murmurs  fluctuate  in  the  gale ; 


Notes. — 121.  bay'd,  barked  at. 

122.  that    spoke,   etc.,    that    in- 

dicated, etc. 

123.  sweet  confusion shade; 

that  is,  were  all  heard  in 


confusion     aa    night    ap- 
proached. 
124.  each   |)ause,  etc.,  each   in- 
tern) ission    in   the    night 
ingale's  song. 


Analysis. — 104.  Give  the  meaning  of  the  line. 

106.  imploring  famine.     What  figure?     Kx  plain  the  line. 

107.  What  does  the  line  mean? 

110.  resignalion  ....  slopen.     What  figure? 

112.  Dispcse  of  ere,  and  exj»lain  the  linp. 

113,  114.  Rewrite  the  lines  in  prose  order. 

115.  What  is  the  meaning  of  careless  as  used  here? 

116.  Dispose  of  helmn. 

118.  sober  herd.     Wliat  figure? 

125.  tfmmdn  af  popnUilion  fail.     Explain. 

126.  fiiLCtualf  in  the  gnU.     What  ia  the  meaninsf? 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  137 

No  busy  step.'i  the  r!;rass-grown  footway  tread ; 

For  all  the  blooming  flush  of  life  is  fled, — 

All  but  yon  widow'd,  solitary  thing 

Tiiat  feebly  bends  beside  the  plashy  spring:  13C 

She,  wretched  matron  ;  forced  in  age,  for  bread, 

To  strip  the  brook  with  mantling  cresses  spread, 

To  pick  her  wintry  fagot  from  the  thorn^ 

To  seek  her  nightly  shed,  and  weep  till  morn, — 

She  only  left  of  all  the  harmless  train,  135 

The  sad  historian  of  the  pensive  plain  ! 

Near  yonder  copse,  whore  once  the  garden  smiled, 
And  still  where  many  a  gardeu-flower  grows  wild, — 
There,  where  a  few  torn  shrubs  the  place  disclose, 
The  village  preacher's  modest  mansion  rose.  140 

A  man  he  was  to  all  the  country  dear. 
And  passing  rich  with  forty  pounds  a  year. 
Remote  from  towns  he  ran  his  godly  race. 
Nor  e'er  had  changed,  nor  wished  to  change,  his  place 
Unpracticed  he  to  fawn,  or  seek  for  power.  115 

By  doctrines  fashion'd  to  the  varying  hour ; 


Notes. — 137.    copse,  woods    of  I  142.  passing,  moderately, 
small  growth ;  brush.  |  147.  far  other,  tar  higher. 


Analysis. — 128.  Give  tlie  meaning  of  blooming  ....  is  JUd. 
Modernize.     What  figure  in  the  line? 

129.  Dispose  of  6?t<. 

131.  for  bread.     Show  wli.Tt  it  modifies. 

134.  For  what  is  the  word  morn  a  Bubetitute?  \\'hat  figrre  of 
ortJiography? 

131-135.  Dispose  of  tlie  word  ahe  in  each  line. 

IS**    Dispose  of  the  word  li i.-<tori(in. 

\37    What  figure  in  the  line? 

I4C    man.<fion.     What  does  the  word  mean  here? 

.  42    Parse  the  word  p(Vi.vnc/. 

1 13.  he  ran  his  godly  race.     What  figure? 

144.  Explain  the  line. 

145.  Give  the  meaning  oi  fawn  here. 

146.  fa.'fhion'd  to.     Explain. 


138  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURK 

Far  other  aims  liis  heart  had  loarn'd  to  prize, — 

More  bent  to  raise  the  wretched  than  to  rise. 

His  house  was  known  to  all  the  vagrant  train  : 

He  chid  tlieir  wanderings,  but  relieved  their  pain.  IM 

The  long-renieniber'd  beggar  was  his  guest, 

Whose  beard,  descemling,  swe]it  his  aged  breast; 

The  ruin'd  speiultiiritl,  now  no  longer  proud, 

Claimed  kindred  tliere,  and  had  his  claims  allow'd ; 

The  broken  soldier,  kindly  bade  to  stay,  165 

Sat  by  his  fire,  and  talk'd  the, night  away, 

Wept  o'er  his  wounds,  or,  tales  of  sorrow  done, 

Shoulder'd  his  crutch  and  sliow'd  how  fields  were  won. 

Pleased  with  his  guests,  the  good  num  le^irn'd  to  glow, 

And  quite  forgot  their  vices  in  their  woe :  160 

Careless  their  merits  or  tlieir  faults  to  scan, 

His  pity  gave  ere  charity  began. 

Thus  to  relieve  the  wretched  was  his  pride; 
And  e'en  his  failings  lean'd  to  virtue's  side. 
J'ut  in  his  duty,  prompt  at  every  call,  165 

He  watch'd  aud  wept,  he  pray'd  and  felt,  for  all ; 
And,  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries 
To  tempt  its  Jiew-fledged  offspring  to  the  skies, 
He  tried  each  art,  reproved  each  dull  delay. 
Allured  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way.  170 

Beside  the  bed  where  parting  life  was  laid. 
And  sorrow,  guilt,  and  i)ain,  by  turns  dismay'd, 


Njies.— 149.  vagrant  train,  trav- I  159.  learn'd     to    glow,    became 
eliug  vagruiii.^,  tiaiiips.        |  auiiii:Uo<l. 


ANAi.Ysrs. — 148.  Wliat  does  the  line  uKxlify? 

155.  Meaning  of  broken  soldier  f 

158.  sliou/d  how  fields  were  won.     ^Vllat  figure? 

1G2.  Dispose  of  tlie  word  ere. 

163.  What  is  the  i)re<li<ate  of  tliis  sentence  7 

104.  Dispose  of  tlie  word  ^en. 

167.  OH  a  bird,  etc.     What  figure? 

167-170.  Analyze  this  sentence. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  139 

Tlie  revorond  champion  stood.     At  his  control, 

Despair  and  anguish  fled  the  struggling  soul ; 

Conifort  came  down  the  trembling  wretch  to  raise,  175 

And  his  last  faltering  accents  whisper'd  praise. 

At  church,  with  meelc  and  unaffected  grace, 
His  looks  adorn'd  the  venerable  place; 
Truth  from  his  lips  prevail'd  with  double  sway, 
And  fools,  who  came  to  scoff,  remain'd  to  pray.  180 

The  service  past,  around  the  pious  man, 
Witli  steady  zeal,  each  honest  rustic  ran ; 
E'en  children  follow'd  with  endearing  wile, 
And  ])luck'd  his  gown,  to  share  the  good  man's  smile. 
His  ready  smile  a  parent's  warmth  express'd,  185 

Their  welfare  pleased  him,  and  their  cares  distress'd; 
To  them  his  heart,  his  love,  his  griefs  were  given, 
But  all  his  serious  thoughts  had  rest  in  Heaven. 
As  some  tall  cliff  that  lifts  its  awful  form. 

Swells  from  the  vale,  and  midway  leaves  the  storm,  190 

Though  round  its  breast  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 
Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  its  head. 

Beside  yon  straggling  fence  that  skirts  the  way, 
With  blossom'd  furze  unprofitably  gay. 

There,  in  his  noisy  mansion,  skill'd  to  rule,  195 

The  village  master  taught  his  little  school: 
A  man  severe  he  was,  and  stern  to  view, 
I  knew  him  well,  and  every  truant  knew; 
Well  had  the  boding  tremblers  learn'd  to  trace 
The  day's  disasters  in  his  morning  face ;  200 

Eull  well  they  laugh'd  with  counterfeited  glee 
At  all  his  jokes,  for  many  a  joke  had  he; 

Analysis. — 173.  reverend  champion  stood.     What  figure? 

174.  Despair  and  amjuUh  fied.     What  figure? 

175.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

176.  accents  whisper'd.     What  figure  ? 
183.  The  meaning  of  wilef 

189.  as  some  tall  cliff,  etc.     Wliat  figures? 
194.  What  is  the  meaning  of  furze  f 
199,  200.  Exi)lain  the  line.     What  figure? 
201.  DLsjvose  of  the  expression  of  fidl  well. 


HO         STUDIES  IN  ENOLISII  LITERATURE. 

Full  well  the  busy  whisper  circliiij^  round 

Convey'd  the  disiiiiil  tidings  when  he  frown 'd : 

Yet  he  was  kind,  or,  if  severe  in  aught,  205 

The  love  he  bore  to  learning  was  iu  fault ; 

The  village  all  declared  how  much  he  knew, 

'Twas  certain  he  could  write,  and  cipher  too ; 

I,ands  he  could  measure,  terms  and  tides  presage, 

And  e'en  the  story  ran  that  he  could  gauge:  210 

In  arguing,  too,  the  parson  own'd  his  skill. 

For,  e'en  thougii  vaiiquisli'd,  he  could  argue  still; 

While  words  of  learned  length  and  thundering  sound 

Ama/.ed  the  gazing  rustics  ranged  around, 

And  still  they  gazed,  and  still  the  wonder  grew,  215 

That  one  small  head  could  carry  all  lie  knew. 

But  past  is  all  liis  fame.     'J'lie  very  spot 
Where  many  a,  time  he  triuiii|ih'd  is  forgot. 
Near  yonder  thorn,  that  lifts  its  head  on  high, 
Where  once  the  sign-])ost  caught  the  jiassing  eye,  220 

J^ow  lies  tii;it  house  where  nut-brown  draughts  insjjircd, 
WImtp  gray-lieard  mirth  and  smiling  toil  retired  ; 
Where  village  statesmen  talk'd  with  looks  profound, 
And  news  much  older  than  their  ale  went  round. 
IniMgination  fondly  stoops  to  trace  225 

The  parlor-splemlors  of  that  festive  place, — 
The  whitewash'd  wall;  the  nicely-sanded  floor; 
The  varnish'd  clock  that  click'd  beliind  the  door ; 
The  chest,  contrived  a  double  debt  to  pay, — 
A  bed  by  night,  a  chest  of  drawers  by  day ;  230 


Noir.s. — 21D.     thorr,     hawlhorn    221.  nut-brown  draughts 

liL<;.  I  i!raii;;lil«  of  ale. 


Analysis. — 207.  Wliat  is  llie  olijoct  of  tferlnredf 

208.  Analyze  the  line. 

209.  Meaning  of  presnffef     Also  of  temis  ami  titles  1 

210.  212.   Dispose  of  the  word  e'en. 
215.  wonder  f/rew,  etc.     Wliat  ligure? 

217.  Give  llie  Kraiiiniatical  con.struction  of  But. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 


.41 


The  pictures  placed  for  ornament  and  use; 
The  twelve  good  rules ;  the  royal  game  of  goose ; 
The  hearth,  except  when  winter  chiird  the  day, 
With  aspen-boughs  and  flowers  and  fennel  gay; 
While  broken  tea-cups,  wisely  kept  for  show, 
Ranged  o'er  the  chimney,  glisteu'd  in  a  row. 


235 


II. 

Vain,  transitory  splendors !  could  not  all 
Reprieve  the  tottering  mansion  from  its  fall  ? 
Obscure  it  sinks  ;  nor  shall  it  more  impart 
An  hour's  importance  to  the  poor  man's  heart: 
Thither  no  more  the  peasant  shall  repair 
To  sweet  oblivion  of  his  daily  care ; 
No  more  the  farmer's  news,  the  barber's  tale, 
No  more  the  woodman's  ballad,  shall  prevail ; 
No  more  the  smith  his  dusky  brow  shall  clear. 
Relax  his  ponderous  strength,  and  lean  to  hear ; 
The  host  himself  no  longer  shall  be  found 
Careful  to  see  the  mantling  bliss  go  round ; 
Nor  the  coy  maid,  half  willing  to  be  press'd, 
Shall  kiss  the  cup  to  pass  it  to  the  re^t. 

Yea  I  let  the  rich  deride,  the  proud  disdain, 
These  simple  blessings  of  the  lowly  train  : 
To  me  more  dear,  congenial  to  my  heart. 
One  native  charm,  than  all  the  gloss  of  art. 
Spontaneous  joys  where  Nature  has  its  play, 
The  soul  adopts,  and  owns  their  first-born  sway ; 


240 


245 


250 


25fi 


N01E8. — 232.  The  twelve  good 
rules  were — 
I.  Urge    no    healths    (health- 

drinkings) 
2    Profane     no    divine     ordi- 
nances. 

3.  Touch  no  state  matters. 

4.  Reveal  no  secrete. 

5.  Pick  no  ouarrek. 


6.  Make  no  comparisons. 

7.  Maintain  no  ill  opinions. 

8.  Keep  no  bad  company. 

9.  ICncourage  no  vice. 
10.  Make  no  long  lueals. 

]  1.  Repeat  no  grievances. 
12.  Lay  no  wagers. 
23(').  o'er  the  chimney,  over  the 
fireiilace. 


142  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Lightly  they  frolic  o'er  the  vacant  mind, 

Unenvied,  unmolested,  unconfined: 

But  the  long  pomp,  the  midnight  masquerade, 

With  all  the  freaks  of  wanton  wealth  array'd,^  26<J 

In  these,  ere  trifiers  half  their  wish  obtain, 

The  toiling  pleasure  sickens  into  pain  ; 

And,  e'en  while  Fashion's  brightest  arts  decoy, 

The  heart  distrusting  asks  if  this  be  joy. 

Ye  friends  to  truth,  ye  statesmen  who  survey  266 

The  rich  man's  joys  increase,  the  poor's  decay  I 
'Tis  yours  to  judge  how  wide  the  limits  stand 
Between  a  splendid  and  a  happy  land. 
Proud  swells  the  tide  with  loads  of  freighted  ore. 
And  shouting  Folly  hails  them  from  her  shore;  270 

Hoards  e'en  beyond  the  miser's  wish  abound ; 
And  rich  men  flock  from  all  the  world  around. 
Yet  count  our  gains.     This  wealth  is  but  a  name 
That  leaves  our  useful  products  still  the  same. 
Not  so  the  loss.     The  man  of  wealth  and  pride  276 

Takes  up  a  space  that  many  poor  supplied : 
Space  for  his  lake,  his  park's  extended  bounds, 
Space  for  his  horses,  equipage,  and  hounds: 
The  robe  that  wraps  his  limbs  in  silken  sloth 
Has  robb'd  the  neighboring  fiekls  of  half  their  growth ;        280 
His  seat,  where  solitary  sports  are  seen, 
Indignant  spurns  the  cottage  from  the  green  : 
Around  the  world  each  needful  product  flies. 
For  all  the  luxuries  the  world  su[)i)lics. 

While  thus  the  land  adorn'd  for  i)U'asnre,  all  285 

In  barren  splendor  feebly  waits  the  fall. 

As  some  fair  female  unadorn'd  and  plain. 
Secure  to  please  while  youth  confirms  her  roign. 
Slights  every  borrow'd  charm  that  dress  supplies. 
Nor  sliarcs  with  art  the  triumph  of  her  eyes;  liSO 

But  when  those  charms  are  past,  for  charms  are  frail, 
When  time  advances,  and  when  lovers  fail, 
She  then  shines  forth,  solicitous  to  bless, 
Id  all  tn(;  glaring  impotence  of  dress. 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  143 

Thus  faies  the  land  by  luxury  betray'd;  295 

In  nature's  simplest  charms  at  first  array'J, 

But  verging  to  decline,  its  splendors  rise, 

Its  vistas  strike,  its  palaces  surprise; 

While,  scourged  by  famine  from  the  smiling  land, 

The  mournful  peasant  leads  his  humble  band ;  300 

And  while  he  sinks,  without  one  arm  to  save, 

The  country  blooms, — a  garden  and  a  grave. 

Where,  then,  ah  I  where  shall  poverty  reside, 
To  'scape  the  pressure  of  contiguous  pride  ? 
If  to  some  common's  fenceless  limits  stray'd  305 

He  drives  his  flock  to  pick  the  scanty  blade, 
Those  fenceless  fields  the  sons  of  wealth  divide, 
And  e'en  the  bare-worn  common  is  denied. 

If  to  the  city  sped,  what  waits  him  there  ? 
To  see  profusion  that  he  must  not  share ;  310 

To  see  ten  thousand  baneful  arts  combined 
To  pamper  luxury  and  thin  mankind ; 
To  see  each  joy  the  sons  of  Pleasure  know 
Extorted  from  his  fellow-creatures'  woe. 

Here  while  the  courtier  glitters  in  brocade,  315 

There  the  pale  artist  plies  the  sickly  trade ; 
Here  while  the  proud  their  long-drawn  pomps  display, 
There  the  black  gibbet  glooms  beside  the  way ; 
The  dome  where  Pleasure  holds  her  midnight  reign, 
Here,  richly  deck'd,  admits  the  gorgeous  train  ;  S20 

Tumultuous  grandeur  crowds  the  blazing  square, 
The  rattling  chariots  clash,  the  torches  glare. 
Sure  scones  like  these  no  troubles  e'er  annoy; 
Sure  these  denote  one  universal  joy  ! 

Are  these  thy  serious  thoughts  ?     Ah  I  turn  thine  eyea  125 

Where  the  jvior,  houseless,  shivering  female  lies. 
She  once,  perhaps,  in  village  plenty  bless'd, 
Haij  wept  at  tales  of  innocence  distress'd : 
Her  modest  looks  the  cottage  might  adorn. 
Sweet  as  the  primiose  peeps  beneath  the  thorn;  330 


NoTKs. — '.H)\.  'scape,  esi:ape.         i  31G.  artist,  iutlsan. 


'44  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Now  lost  to  all,  her  friends,  her  virtue,  fled, 

Near  her  betrayer's  door  she  lays  her  head, 

And  pinch'd  with  cold,  and  shrinking  from  the  shower, 

With  hea\y  heart  dei>lores  that  luckless  hour 

When  idly  first,  ambitious  of  the  town,  335 

She  left  her  wheel,  and  robes  of  country  brown. 

Do  thine,  sweet  Auburn  I  thine,  the  loveliest  train, — 
Do  thy  fair  tribes  participate  her  pain  ? 
E'en  now,  perhaps,  by  cold  and  hunger  led, 
At  proud  men's  doors  they  ask  a  little  bread.  340 

Ah,  no!  to  distant  climes,  a  dreary  scene, 
Where  half  the  convex  world  intrudes  between, 
Through  torrid  tracks  with  fainting  steps  they  go. 
Where  wild  Altama  murmurs  to  their  woe. 
Far  different  there  from  all  that  charm'd  before,  346 

The  various  terrors  of  that  horrid  shore, — 
Those  blazing  suns  that  dart  a  tlownward  ray, 
And  fiercely  shed  intolerable  day ; 
Those  matted  woods  where  birds  forget  to  sing, 
But  silent  bats  in  drowsy  clusters  cling  ;  350 

Those  poisonous  fields  with  rank  luxuriance  crown'd. 
Where  the  dark  scorpion  gathers  death  around ; 
Where  at  each  step  the  stranger  fears  to  wake 
The  rattling  terrors  of  tlie  vengeful  snake ; 
Where  crouching  tigers  wait  their  hapless  prey,  355 

And  savage  men  more  murderous  still  than  they; 
While  oft  in  whirls  the  mad  tornado  files, 
Mingling  the  ravaged  landscajie  with  the  skies. 
Far  different  these  from  every  former  scene, — 
The  cooling  brook,  the  grassy-vested  green,  860 

The  breezy  covert  of  the  warbling  grove, 
That  only  shelter'd  tliefts  of  harmless  love. 

(iood  Heaven  I  what  sorrows  gloom'd  tliat  parting  day 
That  call'd  them  from  their  native  walks  away; 
When  the  poor  exiles,  every  pleasure  past,  365 

Hung  round  the  bowens,  and  fondly  hjok'd  their  laat, 


Note.-— 34'!    Altama,   the   Alt:i- |  of"  tlie  boiitularies  of  Ogl©- 

malia  River  in  Geor;;ia,  one  |  lli:)r|u''s  ;^ranl  of  land. 


370 


875 


380 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  ^^ 

And  took  a  long  farewell,  and  wish'd  in  vain 

For  seats  like  these  beyond  the  western  main ; 

And,  shuddering  still  to  face  the  distant  deep, 

Return'd  and  wept,  and  still  returu'd  to  weep. 

The  good  old  sire  was  first  prepared  to  go 

To  new-found  worlds,  and  wept  for  others'  woe ; 

But,  for  himself,  in  conscious  virtue  brave, 

He  only  wish'd  for  worlds  beyond  the  grave. 

His  lovely  daughter,  lovelier  in  her  tears, 

The  fond  companion  of  his  helpless  years, 

Silent  went  next,  neglectful  of  her  charms, 

And  left  a  lover's  for  her  father's  arms. 

With  louder  plaints  the  mother  spoke  her  woea, 

And  bless'd  the  cot  where  every  pleasure  rose ; 

And  kiss'd  her  thoughtless  babes  with  many  a  teai, 

And  clasp'd  them  close,  in  sorrow  doxibly  dear ; 

Whilst  her  fond  husband  strove  to  lend  relief 

In  all  the  silent  manliness  of  grief. 

O  luxury !  thou  curst  by  Heaven's  decree,  385 

How  ill  exchanged  are  things  like  these  for  thee  I 

How  do  thy  potions,  with  insidious  joy, 

Diffuse  their  pleasures  only  to  destroy  I 

Kingdoms  by  thee,  to  sickly  greatness-grown. 

Boast  of  a  florid  vigor  not  their  own.  890 

At  every  draught  more  large  and  large  they  grow, 

A  bloated  mass,  of  rank  unwieldy  woe ; 

Till,  sapp'd  their  strength,  and  every  part  unsound, 

Down,  down  thoy  sink,  and  spread  a  ruin  round. 

E'en  now  the  devastation  is  begun,  3W 

And  half  the  business  of  destruction  done ; 

E'en  now,  methinks,  as  pondering  here  I  stand, 

1  see  the  rural  virtues  leave  the  land. 

Down  where  yon  anchoring  vessel  spreads  the  sail. 

That  idly  waiting  flaps  with  every  gale,  *00 

Downward  they  move,  a  melancholy  band. 

Pass  from  the  shore,  and  darken  all  the  strand. 


Notes. — 368     seats,  sites,   loca-    368.  main,  sea. 

tions.  I  402.  strand,  beach. 

10 


146 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


Contented  toil,  and  hospitable  care, 

And  kind  connubial  tenderness,  are  there ; 

And  piety  with  wishes  placed  above,  408 

And  steady  loyalty,  and  faithful  love. 

And  thou,  sweet  Poetry,  thou  loveliest  maid, 

Still  first  to  fly  where  sensual  joys  invade; 

Unfit  in  these  degenerate  times  of  shame 

To  catch  the  heart,  or  strike  for  honest  fame;  110 

Dear  charming  nymph,  neglected  and  decried, 

My  shame  in  crowds,  my  solitary  pride ; 

Thou  source  of  all  my  bliss  and  all  my  woe, 

Thou  found'st  me  poor  at  first,  and  keep'st  me  so ; 

Thou  guide,  by  which  the  noble  arts  excel ;  415 

Thou  nurse  of  every  virtue, — fare  thee  well  I 

Farewell  I  and,  oh  I  where'er  thy  voice  be  tried, 

On  Torno's  cliffs,  or  Pambamarca's  side. 

Whether  where  equinoctial  fervors  glow, 

Or  Winter  wraps  the  polar  world  in  snow,  420 

Still  let  thy  voice,  prevailing  over  time. 

Redress  the  rigors  of  the  inclement  clime ; 

Aid  slighted  Truth  with  thy  persuasive  strain  ; 

Teach  erring  man  to  spurn  the  rage  of  gain  ; 

Teach  him  that  states  of  native  strength  possess'd,  425 

Though  very  poor,  may  still  be  very  bless'd ; 

That  Trade's  proud  empire  hastes  to  swift  decay. 

As  Ocean  sweeps  the  labor'd  mole  away ; 

While  self-dependent  power  can  Time  defy,  4S0 

As  rocks  resist  the  billows  and  the  sky. 


Notes.— 418.  Torno's  cliffs.  Tliis 
probably  refers  to  the  clifls 
around  Lake  Tonic  in  Swe- 
den. 


418.  Pambamarca's  side.  Pam- 
liamarca  is  a  mcuntalD 
near  Quito,  South  Amer 
ica. 


12.   WILLIAM    COWPER, 

1731-1800. 

WiLi.TAM  CowPER,  wliom  Soutliey  speaks  of  as  the 
"  most  popular  poet  of  his  generation,  and  the  best  of 
English  letter-writers,"  was  the  son  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
John  Cowper,  chaplain  to  George  II.,  and  grandson  of 
Judge  Spencer  Cowper.  His  mother  also  was  allied  to 
some  of  the  noblest  fauiilies  in  England,  and  descended 
by  four  different  lines  from  King  Henry  III.  Dr.  Cow- 
per at  the  time  of  William's  Ijirth — which  took  place 
on  the  15th  of  November,  1731 — was  also  rector  of  Great 
Berkhampstead,  in  Hertfordshire. 

Cowper's  mother  died  when  he  was  but  six  years  of 
age,  and  he  was  soon  thereafter  taken  to  a  boarding- 
school,  where  he  was  not  only  homesick  and  lonely, 
but  compelled  to  suffer  from  the  tyranny  of  one  of 
his  schoolfellows  much  older  than  himself,  who  cruelly 
crushed  his  spirit  with  rough  blows  and  continual  per- 
secution. It  was  here  that  the  foundation  was  laid  for 
that  morbid  sensitiveness  and  dislike  for  schools  of  all 
kinds  wliich  characterized  him  through  life.  At  the  age 
of  eight  he  was  taken  from  school,  and  placed  for  two 
years  in  tlie  care  of  an  oculist  for  treatment  of  his  eyes. 
At  the  age  of  ten  he  was  placed  in  Westminster  School, 
where  he  remained  seven  years. 

He  was  placed  in  an  attorney's  office  at  eighteen,  and 
here  for  three  years  he  and  a  fellow-student,  who  after- 
ward became  Lord  Chancellor  Thurlow,  enjoyed  them 
selves  in  pretending  to  study  English  law.  This  ex- 
perience was  one  of  the  few  bright  spots  in  the  poet'« 

147 


148  STUDIES  JN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

life.  Cowper,  who  was  called  to  the  bar  in  1754,  lived 
for  some  time  an  agreeable  but  idle  life,  spt-nding  an 
hour  now  and  then  in  writing  a  little  for  the  serials  of 
the  day. 

Ir.  1768  a  clerkship  in  the  House  of  Lords  was  offered 
to  him,  but  his  slirinking  nature  forbade  his  accepting 
thi-  post.  AnoMier  position  was  substituted,  tliat  of  clerk 
of  the  journals  of  the  House  of  Lords.  But  he  was  re- 
quired to  pass  an  examination  for  this  position,  and  in 
the  effort  to  prepare  himself  his  mind  gave  way  and  he 
tried  to  kill  himself  A  deep  religious  melancholy  took 
possession  of  him,  and  for  a  year  and  a  lialf  be  remained 
an  inmate  of  an  asylum  at  St.  Albans.  Three  times  .sub- 
sequently his  malad}'  returned. 

In  1766  he  became  a  member  of  Rev.  Mr.  Unwin's 
family,  residing  at  Huntingdon ;  and  this  proved  to  be 
the  great  blessing  of  his  life.  Cowper  in  one  of  his 
letters  says  of  Mrs.  Unwin,  who  became  a  widow  in 
1767,  "  Her  behavior  to  me  has  always  been  that  of  a 
mother  to  her  son."  In  1773,  Cowper  became  insane  tbe 
second  time,  and  for  more  than  three  years  his  terrible 
malady  held  possession  of  him.  When  he  reeovere'i  he 
resorted  to  gardening,  the  rearing  of  hares,  and  the  writ- 
ing of  poetry  as  recreation.  The  last  of  these  fortunately 
became  a  permanent  enjoymi-nt.  His  first  ])ublished 
poems  ajjpeared  in  1782.  The  Tad-,  by  whicli  he  is  best 
known,  was  pulilished  in  1785,  but  previous  to  this  the 
comic  ballad  of  John  Gilpin,  written  for  the  amusement 
of  a  few  friends,  had  made  all  England  merry  with  its 
humor. 

From  1776  to  1794,  Cowper's  mind  was  clear,  except 
for  a  space  of  six  months,  and  it  was  during  these  eight- 
een years  that  most  of  his  poems  were  written.  His 
verses  On  the  Receipt  of  my  MotJin-''.^  Piiinre  are  among 
the  most  touching  in  the  language. 


WILLIAM   GOWPER.  149 

In  1791  he  published  a  translation  of  Homer,  but  it 
was  no  improvement  on  the  productions  of  his  prede- 
cessors in  this  line.  Toward  the  close  of  his  unfortunate 
life  his  malady  again  settled  on  him,  and  he  was  gloomy 
and  dejected  almost  constantly  to  the  time  of  his  death. 
In  1794  a  pension  of  three  hundred  pounds  was  granted 
to  him  by  the  Crown.  In  1796  his  good  friend  Mrs. 
Unwin  died.  Cowper  lingered  almost  four  years  longer, 
dying  on  the  25th  of  A])ril,  1800. 

CRITICISM   BY  CAMPBELL, 

The  nature  of  Cowper's  works  makes  us  peculiarly 
identify  the  poet  and  the  man  in  perusing  them.  As 
an  individual  he  was  retired  and  weaned  from  the  van- 
ities of  the  world,  and  as  an  original  writer  he  left  the 
ambitious  and  luxuriant  subjects  of  fiction  for  those 
of  real  life  and  simple  Nature,  and  for  the  development 
of  his  own  earnest  feelings  in  behalf  of  moral  and  re- 
ligious truth.  His  language  has  such  a  masculine, 
idiomatic  strength,  and  his  manner,  whether  he  rises 
into  grace  or  falls  into  negligence,  has  so  much  plain 
and  familiar  freedom,  that  we  read  no  poetry  with  a 
deeper  conviction  of  its  sentiments  having  come  from 
the  author's  heart,  and  of  the  enthusiasm,  in  whatever 
he  describes,  having  been  unfeigned  and  unexaggerated. 

ON  THE  RECEIPT  OF  MY  MOTHER'S  PICTURE. 
Note. — These  tender  lines  were  written  by  Cowper  in  1790,  ten 
years  before  liis  death,  on  the  receipt  of  his  mother's  picture,  sent  to 
him  by  his  cousin,  Ann  Bodham.  Though  his  niotlier  had  die<1 
fifty-three  years  before,  he  claimed  to  be  an  "ocular  witness"  to  tKe 
fidelity  of  tlie  picture. 

Oh  that  those  lips  had  language  I     Life  has  passed 
With  nio  but  roughly  since  I  heard  thee  last ; 


\nalysis. — 2.  Dispose  of  the  words  bid  ronyhly. 


J 50  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Those  lips  are  thine — thine  own  sweet  smile  I  see, 

The  same  that  oft  in  childhood  solaced  me ; 

Voice  only  fails,  else  how  distinct  they  say,  9 

Grieve  not,  my  child ;  chase  all  thy  fears  away  I" 

The  meet  intelligence  of  those  dear  eyes 

(Blest  be  the  art  that  can  immortalize  I 

The  art  tliat  baffles  Time's  tyrannic  claim 

To  quench  it)  here  shines  on  me  still  the  same.  10 

Faithful  remembrancer  of  one  so  dear, 

0  welcome  guest,  though  unexpected  here  1 
Who  bidd'st  me  honor  with  an  artless  song, 
Affectionate,  a  mother  lost  so  long. 

1  will  obey — not  willingly  alone,  16 
But  gladly,  as  the  ])recept  were  her  own ; 

And,  while  that  face  renews  my  filial  grief, 

Fancy  shall  weave  a  charm  for  my  relief, 

Shall  steep  me  in  Elysian  revery, 

A  momentary  dream  that  thou  art  she.  20 

My  mother !  when  I  learned  that  thou  wast  dead, 
Say,  wast  thou  conscious  of  tlie  tears  I  shed  ? 
Hovered  thy  spirit  o'er  thy  sorrowing  son. 
Wretch  even  then,  life's  journey  just  begun  ? 
Perhaps  thou  gav'st  me,  though  unfelt,  a  kiss ;  26 


Analysis. — 3.  Give  tiie  case  of  thine. 
5.  Wliy  only,  in.stead  of  alone?     Meaning  of  (het 
Dispose  of  diatinct. 

7.  meek  intellujcnce.     What  figure  ? 

8.  Wliat  art  is  meant? 

9.  Timt^i  tyrannic,  etc.     What  figure  ? 
12    welcome  yueal.     Wiuit  figure? 

1()    Give  the  construction  of  were. 
18.  Fancy  shall  weave.     What  figure? 
l!i   The  meaning  of  Elyaum  revery  f 

21    My   mother/      What   figure?      Grammatical    construction    of 
tiolher  f 

2Z   Grammatical  construction  of  Sayf 

24.  Dispose  of  eien,  th^n,  and  begun. 

2o.  Ciive  tlic  ;;Tanini;itica!  construction  of  unfeJt. 


WILLIAM  COWPER.  161 

Perhaps  a  tear,  if  souls  can  weep  in  blisa : 

Ah,  that  maternal  smile  I  it  answers.  Yes. 

I  heard  the  bell  tolled  on  thy  burial  day, 

I  saw  the  hearse  that  bore  thee  slow  away, 

And,  turning  from  my  nursery  window,  drew  W 

A  long,  long  sigh  and  wept  a  last  adieu  I 

But  was  it  such  ?    It  was.     Where  thou  art  gone, 

Adieus  and  farewells  are  a  sound  unknown. 

May  I  but  meet  thee  on  that  peaceful  shore, 

The  parting  word  shall  pass  my  lips  no  more  I  86 

Thy  maidens,  grieved  themselves  at  my  concern, 

Oft  gave  me  promise  of  thy  quick  return : 

What  ardently  I  wished  I  long  believed, 

And,  disappointed  still,  was  still  deceived; 

By  expectation  every  day  beguiled,  40 

Dupe  of  to-morrow,  even  from  a  child  I 

Thus  many  a  sad  to-morrow  came  and  went. 

Till,  all  my  stock  of  infant  sorrow  spent, 

I  learned,  at  last,  submission  to  my  lot. 

But,  though  I  less  deplored  thee,  ne'er  forgot.  45 

Where  once  we  dwelt,  our  name  is  heard  no  more. 
Children  not  thine  have  trod  my  nursery-floor ; 
And  where  the  gardener  Robin  day  by  day 
Drew  me  to  school  along  the  public  way. 


Analysis. — 26.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  tear.  What 
figure  in  the  line  ? 

29.  Dispose  of  the  word  slow.  Explain  how  the  use  of  the  word 
tlow  becomes  allowable  here. 

32.  Dispose  of  the  word  such.  What  word  should  be  used  instead 
of  who'e  in  prose  form  ? 

34.  Grammatical  construction  of  but? 

35.  ihcdl  pass  my  lips.  etc.     What  figure  ? 

39.  disappointed.     Give  grammatical  construction. 

40,  41.  Arrange  in  prose  order.    Dispose  of  the  word  Dupe. 

42.  sad  to-morrow  came.     What  figure  ? 

43.  Graiiunatical  construction  of  spent* 

45.  Explain  the  use  of  tlie  apostrophe  in  n^er.  What  is  the  »al^ 
ject  of  forgot  t 


152  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Delighted  with  my  bauble  coach,  and  wrapped  M 

In  scarlet  mantle  warm,  and  velvet-capped, 

'Tis  now  become  a  history  little  known, 

That  once  we  called  the  pastoral  house  our  own. 

Short-lived  possession  I  but  the  record  fair 

That  memory  keeps  of  all  thy  kindness  there  66 

Still  outlives  many  a  storm  that  has  effaced 

A  thousand  other  themes  less  deeply  traced. 

Thy  nightly  visits  to  my  chamber  made, 

That  thou  mightst  know  me  safe  and  warmly  laid  ; 

Thy  morning  bounties  ere  I  left  my  home,  60 

The  biscuit  or  confectionery  plum. 

The  fragrant  waters  on  my  cheeks  bestowed, 

By  thy  own  hand,  till  fresh  they  shone  and  glowed, — 

All  this,  and,  more  endearing  still  than  all. 

Thy  constant  flow  of  love,  that  knew  no  fall,  65 

Ne'er  roughened  by  those  cataracts  and  breaks, 

That  humor  interposed  too  often  makes ; 

All  this  still  legible  in  memory's  page, 

And  still  to  be  so  to  my  latest  age. 

Adds  joy  to  duty,  makes  me  glad  to  pay  7i 

Such  honors  to  thee  as  my  numbers  may ; 


Analysis. — 50.  Trace  the  etymology  of  bavble.    Show  how  the 
word  is  allied  to  babe. 

51.  scarlet  mantle  warm.     Notice  the  order  of  the  word*. 

52.  '  Tis  now  become,  etc.     Write  in  prose  form. 
52,  53.  Analyze  these  lines. 

54-57.  Give  the  meaning  of  these  lines. 

55.  memory  keeps.     What  figure?     I)isj)Ose  of  <Aer«. 

56,  57.  Point  out  the  figure. 

59.  warmly.     Is  this  grammatically  correct? 

64.  AU.  this.     To  what  do  tlie  words  refer  ? 

65.  flow  of  love.     Wliat  figure  ? 

66.  67.  What  figures  in  these  lines?     Meaning;  of  tlie  wonl  humet 
here? 

68.  Ifgilife  in  memory's  pnrje.     What  figure? 

69.  (rranimatical  construction  of  sof 
71.  To  what  does  numheis  here  refer? 


WILLTAM  COW  PER. 


153 


Perhaps  a  frail  memorial,  but  sincere, 

Not  scorned  in  heaven,  though  little  noticed  here. 

Could  Time,  his  flight  reversed,  restore  the  hours 
When,  playing  with  thy  vesture's  tissued  flowers,  75 

The  violet,  the  pink,  and  jessamine; 
I  pricked  them  into  paper  with  a  pin 
(And  thou  wast  happier  than  myself  the  while; 
Wouldst  softly  speak,  and  stroke  my  head  and  smile), — 
Could  those  few  pleasant  days  again  appear,  80 

Might  one  wish  bring  them,  would  J  wish  them  here? 
I  would  not  trust  my  heart — the  dear  delight 
Seems  so  to  be  desired,  perhaps  I  might. 
But  no!  what  here  we  call  our  life  is  such, 
So  little  to  be  loved,  and  thou  so  much,  85 

That  I  should  ill  requite  thee  to  constrain 
Thy  unbound  spirit  into  bonds  again. 

Thou,  as  a  gallant  bark  from  Albion's  coast 
(The  storms  all  weathered  and  the  ocean  crossed) 
Shoots  into  port  at  some  well-havened  isle  90 

Where  spices  breathe,  and  brighter  seasons  smile. 


Notes.— 75-81.  It  is  related  of 
Cowper  that  when  a  little 
child  be  often  stood  al  his 
mother's  knee  and  played 
with  the  flowers  in  her  dress, 
frequently  pricking  pictures 


of  them  into  paper  with  a 
pin. 
Albion,  England.  Named 
Albion  from  the  white  chalk 
cliffs  on  its  coast.  (Latin, 
albics,  white). 


Analysis. — 72.  Rnpjily  ellipsis,  and  dispose  of  the  word  memorial. 
VVliat  are  the  modifiers  of  memorial  f 

74.  Wliat  figure  in  the  line? 

74-81.  What  is  the  principal  clause  in  these  lines?  Write  the 
lino*  in  prose  order. 

7a.  Grammatical  construction  of  while? 

83.  Seems  to  be  desired.     Grannnatical  construction? 

85.  Dispose  of  So  Utile  to  be  loved  ;  also  so  much. 

86,  87.  to  corustrain  ....  lujain.     Explain. 
88.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

91.  f!})i(:es  breathe  ....  seasons  smile.     What  figures? 


154  '       STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURR 

There  sits  quiescent  on  the  floods,  that  show 
Her  beauteous  form  reflected  clear  below, 
While  airs  impregnated  with  incense  play 
Around  her,  fanning  light  her  streamers  gay, —  95 

So  thou,  with  sails  how  swift  1  hast  reached  the  shore, 
"Where  tempests  never  beat,  nor  billows  roar;" 
And  thy  loved  consort  on  the  dangerous  tide 
Of  life  long  since  has  anchored  by  thy  side. 
But  me,  scarce  hoping  to  attain  that  rest,  100 

Always  from  port  withheld,  always  distressed — 
The  howling  blasts  drive  devious,  tempest- tossed, 
Sails  ri]>ped,  seams  opening  wide,  and  compass  lost, 
And  day  by  day  some  current's  thwarting  force 
Sets  me  more  distant  from  a  prosperous  course,  '   105 

But  oh  I  the  thought  that  thou  art  safe,  and  he, 
That  thought  is  joy,  arrive  what  may  to  me. 

My  boast  is  not  that  I  deduce  my  birth 
From  loins  enthroned  and  rulers  of  the  earth ; 


Note. — 109,  110.  These  lines  re- 1  from  distinguished  auce» 

fer    to    Cowper's    descent  |  try. 


I 


Analysis. — 94.  airs  flay  around.     What  figure? 

95.  Parse  light. 

96.  sails  how  swift.     What  figure? 

97.  Point  out  and  name  the  figures  in  the  line. 

98.  99.  Name  the  figures. 

100.  But  me,  "  but  as  for  me."     Dispose  of  scarce. 
100,  101.  Dispose  of  hoping  and  distressed. 

102.  What  part  of  speech  is  devious* 

103.  wide  is  here  used  as  an  attributive  adjective  after  the  parti- 
yple  opening.     (See  Raub's  Grammar,  p.  101,  Remark  7.) 

10.3.  compass  lost.     To   what  calamity  in  Cowper's  life  does  this 
refer? 

104.  105.  distant  is  here  a  factitive  adjective.     (See  Raub'fl  Gram- 
mar p.  164,  note  4.)     What  figure  in  the  line? 

106.  and  he.     Supply  ellipsia. 

107.  arrive.     What  term  is  coininonly  u.sed  ?     Give  the  mode  of 
mrrive. 

109.  loins  enthrmied.     What  figure? 


WILLIAM  GOWPER,  155 

But  higher  far  my  proud  pretensions  rise —  IH 

The  son  of  parents  passed  into  the  skies. 

And  now,  farewell  1     Time  unrevoked  has  run 

His  wonted  course ;  yet  what  I  wished  is  done. 

By  contemplation's  help,  not  sought  in  vain, 

I  seem  to  have  lived  my  childhood  o'er  again ;  115 

To  have  renewed  the  joys  that  once  were  mine, 

Without  the  sin  of  violating  thine ; 

And,  while  the  wings  of  fancy  still  are  free, 

And  I  can  view  this  mimic  show  of  thee. 

Time  has  but  half  succeeded  in  his  theft —  120 

Thyself  removed,  thy  power  to  soothe  me  left. 


Analysis. — 110.  Dispose  of /ar. 

113.  Dispose  of  what. 

114.  conlemplatioii's  help.     What  figure? 

116.  Give  grammatical  construction  of  mine. 

117.  Give  grammatical  construction  of  thine. 

118.  What  figures  in  the  line? 

119.  mimic  show.     To  what  does  this  refer? 

120.  What  is  the  force  of  butf 

121.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  renwMwd 


13.  ROBERT   BURNS, 

1759-1796. 

Robert  Burns,  often  called  the  Shakespeare  of  Scot- 
land, was  bora  in  tlie  parish  of  Alloway,  near  Ayr, 
Scotland,  on  the  25th  of  January,  1759.  His  father 
was  a  poor  farmer,  who  luid  built  with  his  own  liands 
the  mud  hut  in  which  the  great  poet  was  born,  and  was 
therefore  able  to  give  his  son  but  a  meagre  educatioL 
The  school-days  of  Burns  had  ended  before  he  reached 
the  age  of  twelve,  but  he  claims  that  even  then  he  was 
"  a  critic  in  substantives,  verbs,  and  partici})les."  To  this 
education  was  added  "  a  fortnight's  French  "  and  a  sum- 
mer quarter  at  land-surveying,  and  the  scnool-career  of 
Burns  was  closed. 

His  help  was  needed  on  the  little  nursery-farm  to 
which  his  father  had  removed,  and  here,  it  is  said,  he 
toiled  like  a  galley-slave  to  support  his  parents  and 
their  household,  yet  improving  every  opportunity  of 
acquiring  knowledge  from  both  men  and  books.  Among 
the  few  books  he  possessed  were  the  works  of  Addison, 
Pope,  and  Allan  Ramsay,  and  these  lie  read  and  re-read 
till  by  and  by  he  was  able  to  add  Slienstone,  Sterne, 
Thomson,  and  Mackenzie  to  his  list  of  silent  com- 
panions. 

Nature,  however,  became  his  great  school.  From  the 
birds  and  the  wild  flowers  he  conned  his  best  lessons  as 
he  trudged  l)ehind  the  plow.  A  little  mat  of  leaves  and 
grass,  tossed  aside  by  his  j)l()vvshare,  exposed  a  small 
field-mouse,  over  which  the  saddened  heart  of  tlie  )><)et 
bubbled  into  eong,  and  a  daisy  crushed  in  the  apiiiig- 


1 


ROBERT  BURNS.  157 

tin.e  draws  from  him  another  strnin  no  less  beautiful 
and  touching  than  the  other. 

But  the  farm  could  not  be  made  to  produce  a  Uving, 
and  the  poet  determined  to  sail  to  Jamaica,  with  the 
hope  of  becoming  steward  on  some  sugar-plantation. 
fn  order  to  secure  the  needed  funds,  lie  had  six  hun- 
dred co])ies  of  liis  poems  printed  at  Kilmarnock  in  178(. 
These  were  distributed  among  a  few  booksellers,  and  so 
ready  was  the  sale  that  the  })oet  found  Inmself  the  po^ 
sessor  of  twenty  guineas  as  his  share  of  the  jirofit.  His 
passage  was  engaged  for  the  first  ship  tliat  left  the  Clyde, 
and  every  preparation  was  made  for  the  start,  wlien  a 
letter  from  Dr.  Blacklock  of  Edinburgh,  himself  a  poet, 
to  one  of  Burns's  friends,  commending  the  poems  in 
such  terms  as  the  modest  plowboy  had  not  dared  to 
hope  for,  changed  the  whole  current  of  his  life. 

Giving  his  mother  a  portion  of  his  twenty  guineas,  he 
started,  almost  penniless,  to  Iildinburgh,  without  even  a 
letter  of  introduction.  But  his  hook  liad  preceded  him. 
and  he  at  once  became  the  companion  of  both  lords  and 
literati,  who  listened  with  delight  to  his  fresh  and  bril- 
liant talk.  A  new  edition  of  his  poems  was  at  once 
issued,  on  which  he  cleared  nearly  five  hundred  ])ounds. 
Burns  joined  in  the  conviviality  wliich  everywhere  sur- 
rounded him,  but,  alas  !  the  temptations  which  beckoned 
him  on  became  his  ruin.  He  soon  fell  a  victim  to  in- 
temperance, his  money  was  spent,  and  he  found  himself 
deserted.  His  poverty  comj)elled  him  to  rent  a  little 
farm  at  Ell  island,  near  Dumfries,  and,  having  married 
Jean  Arm(  ur^  to  whom  he  had  long  been  attached,  he 
again  became  a  f;irnier. 

In  17*J.'i  a  third  edition  of  his  poems  was  printed,  in 
which  first  a])pear(Hl  his  inimitable  Tarn  O'S/kuiUt.  But 
Burns's  life  was  almost  S]ient;  sickness,  poverty,  and 
debt  made  him   dospomlent,  and  he  at  last  became  the 


158  STUDIES  ly  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

fated  victim  of  intemperate  habits,  to  whicl)  lie  was  only 
too  prone,  and  died  at  tlie  age  of  thirty-seven,  at  Dum- 
fries, on  the  21st  of  July,  1796. 

Burns  is  remem])ered  chiefly  by  his  songs,  but  in  ad- 
dition to  the  poems  already  mentioned  he  will  alwaye 
be  praised  for  his  Cotter^s  Saturday  Night— a.  beautiful 
domestic  picture,  supposed  to  represent  a  home-scene 
at  his  father's  cottage — the  Elegy  on  Captain  Matthew 
Henderson,  and  'The  Jolly  Beggars.  Among  his  master- 
pieces are  The  Cotter^s  Saturday  Night  and  Tarn  0''Shanter. 

CRITICISM  BY  THOMAS  B.  SHAW. 

His  works  are  singularly  various  and  splendid ;  the 
greater  part  of  them  consists  of  songs,  either  completely 
original  or  recastings  of  such  comj)ositions  of  older 
date:  in  performing  this  difficult  task  of  altering  and 
improving  existing  lyrics,  in  which  a  beautiful  thought 
was  often  buried  under  a  load  of  mean  and  vulgar  ex- 
pression. Burns  exhibits  a  most  exquisite  delicacy  and 
purity  of  taste,  and  an  admirable  ear  for  harmony.  His 
own  songs  vary  in  tone  and  subject  through  every  chang- 
ing mood,  from  the  sternest  patriotism  and  the  most 
agonizing  pathos  to  the  l)roadest  drollery :  in  all  he  is 
equally  inimitable.  Most  of  his  finest  works  are  writ- 
ten in  his  own  Lowland  dialect,  and  give  a  picture,  at 
once  familiar  and  ideal,  of  the  feelings  and  sentiments 
of  the  })easant.  It  is  the  rustic  heart,  but  glorified  by 
passion,  and  elevated  by  a  perpetual  communing  with 
Nature.  liut  he  has  also  exhibited  perfect  mastery  when 
writing  pure  English,  and  many  admirable  productions 
might  be  cited  in  which  he  has  clothed  the  loveliest 
thoughts  in  the  purest  language.  Consc(iuently,  his 
genius  was  not  obliged  to  depend  ui:)on  the  adventi- 
tious charm  and  piestige  of  r  provincial  dialect.     There 


ROBERT  BURNS.  1-39 

never  perhaps  existed  a  mini  more  truly  and  intensely 
poetical  than  that  of  Burns.  In  his  verses  to  a  '•  Moun- 
tain Daisy,"  which  he  turned  up  with  his  plow,  in  his 
reflections  on  destroying,  in  the  same  way,  the  nest  of  a 
field-mouse,  there  is  a  vein  of  tenderness  which  no  poet 
has  ever  surpassed.  In  the  beautiful  little  poem  "  To 
Mary  in  Heaven,"  and  in  many  other  short  lyrics,  he 
has  condensed  the  whole  history  of  love — its  tender 
fears,  its  joys,  its  frenzy,  its  agonies,  and  its  yet  sub- 
limer  resignation — into  the  space  of  a  dozen  lines.  No 
poet  ever  seems  so  sure  of  himself;  none  goes  more 
directly  and  more  certainl}'-  to  the  point ;  none  is  more 
muscular  in  his  expression,  encumbering  the  thought 
with  no  useless  drapery  of  words,  and  trusting  always 
for  effect  to  Nature,  truth,  and  intensity  of  feeling.  Con- 
sequently, no  poet  more  abounds  in  those  short  and  pic- 
ture-like phrases  which  at  once  present  the  object  almost 
to  our  senses,  and  which  no  reflection  could  either  imi- 
tate or  improve. 

THE  COTTER'S  SATURDAY  NIGHT. 

Note. — This  poem  was  written  by  Burns  at  the  age  of  twenty-six 
It  was  dedicateci  to  his  intimate  friend  Robert  Aiken,  a  lawyer  in 
tiie  town  of  Ayr,  Scotland.  It  will  be  noticed  that  part  of  the  poem 
18  written  in  tlie  Ayrshire  dialect  and  part  in  English.  The  poet 
employs  the  Spenserian  stanza. 

1.  ]My  loved,  my  linnor'd,  mtich-respected  friend  I 
No  mercenary  bard  his  homage  i)ays; 
With  honest  pride  I  scorn  each  selfish  end  : 
.My  dearest  meed,  a  friend's  esteem  and  praise: 


Note. — 4.  meed,  reward. 


ANALYSIS. — 2.  What  is  tlie  meaning  of  mercrnary  bard  heie? 
4.  Wliat  verl)  is  omitted  in  the  line? 


160 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


To  you  I  sing,  in  simple  Scottisli  lays,  ft 

The  lowly  train  in  life's  sequester'd  scene; 
The  native  feelings  strong,  the  guileless  ways , 
What  Aiken  in  a  cottage  would  have  been ; 
A  h  I  though  his  worth  unknown,  far  happier  there,  I  ween. 

2.  November  chill  blaws  loud  wi'  angry  sugh  ;  10 
The  shortening  winter  day  is  near  a  close; 

The  miry  beasts  retreating  frae  the  pleugh  ; 
Tlie  blackening  trains  o'  craws  to  their  repose ; 
The  toil-worn  Cotter  frae  his  labor  goes, 

This  night  his  weekly  moil  is  at  an  end,  16 

Collects  his  spades,  his  mattocks,  and  his  hoes, 
Uojiing  the  morn  in  ease  and  rest  to  spend, 
And,  weary,  o'er  the  moor  his  course  does  hameward  bend. 

3.  At  length  his  lonely  cot  appears  in  view. 

Beneath  the  shelter  of  an  aged  tree ;  20 

Th'  expectant  wee-things,  toddlin',  stachcr  through 
To  meet  their  Dad,  wi'  flichterin'  noise  an'  glee. 


Notes. — 5.  I  sing.  This  refers  to 

the  habit  of  early  poets,  who 

sang  their  verses,  usually  for 

pay. 

9.  ween,  deem. 

10.  wi'  angry  sugh,  with  angry 

sough  or  moaning. 
12.  frae,  from. 


12.  pleugh,  plow. 

13.  trains    o'    craws,    trains   of 

crows. 

15.  moil,  labor. 

17.  the  morn,  the  morrow. 

19.  cot,  cottaf,'e. 

21.  stacher,  st;iij,ffer. 

22.  flichterin',  Uiittering. 


Analysis. — 6.  Meaning  of  lowly  train f    Give  the  grammatical 
COiistnictioii  of  train. 

7.  native  feelingn  utronr/.     Notice  the  order. 

9.  Rewrite  tlie  line  in  prose. 
10.  What  i)art  of  speech  is  loudf 
1.3.  Snjiply  elli[>sis. 
14.  (live  the  meaning  of  Cotter. 

16.  Whal  is  the  sul)ject  of  collects  f 

17.  Wl)at  does  tiie  line  modify? 

18.  Give  the  con.stniction  of  weary. 
21.  loddlin  .     (live  the  meaning. 


ROBERT  BURNS. 


161 


His  wee  bit  ingle,  bliukiii'  bonnily, 
His  clean  hearth-stane,  bis  tbriftie  wifie's  smile, 
The  lisping  infant  prattling  on  bis  knee,  26 

Does  a'  bis  weary  carking  cares  beguile, 
An*  makes  him  quite  forget  bis  labor  an'  bis  toil. 

i    Belyve  tbe  elder  bairns  come  drappin'  in, 

At  service  out  araang  tbe  farmers  roun' : 

Some  ca'  tbe  pleugb,  some  berd,  some  tentie  rin  30 

A  cannie  errand  to  a  neebor-town. 

Tbeir  eldest  bope,  tbeir  Jenny,  woman  grown. 

In  youtbfu'  bloom,  love  sparkling  in  ber  e'e, 

Comes  bame,  perbaps,  to  sbow  a  braw  new  gown, 

Or  deposit  ber  sair-won  penny-fee  35 

To  help  ber  parents  dear  if  tbey  in  bardsbip  be. 

5   Wi' joy  unfeign'd  brotbers  and  sisters  meet, 
An'  eacb  for  otber's  weelfare  kindly  speirs : 
Tbe  social  bours,  swift-wing'd,  unnoticed  fleet; 
Eacb  tells  tbe  uncos  tbat  be  sees  or  bears.  40 

Tbe  parents,  partial,  eye  tbeir  bopeful  years; 
Anticipation  forward  points  tbe  view : 
Tbe  motber,  wi'  her  needle  an'  her  shears. 


Notes. — 23.  ingle,  fireplace. 

blinkin',  shining  at  intervals. 
26.  a',  all. 

carking,  consuniing. 
28.  Belyve,  by  and  by. 

bairns,  children. 
80.  ca',  call  or  drive. 

tentie  rin,  attentively  run. 


31.  cannie,  careful  or  dexterous 

33.  e'e,  eye. 

34.  braw,  handsome. 

35.  sair-won,  sorely  or    dearly 

won. 
penny-fee,  wages, 
?>8.  speirs,  inquires. 
40.  uncos,  news. 


Analysis. — 23-27.  Is  the  sentence  correct?    Analyze  it 
29.  What  does  the  line  modilV  ? 

35.  de^posit.     Tlie  accent  here  is  thrown  to  the  first  syllable  to  re- 
lain  the  metre.    This  was  also  the  former  prdnunciation  of  the  word. 

41.  ¥&Tse  partial,  eye  their  hopefid  years.     "What  figure? 

42.  Anticipation  ....  points,  etc.     "VVliat  figure? 

11 


162  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Gars  auld  clacit  look  ainaist  as  weel's  the  new; 
The  father  mixes  a'  wi*  admonition  due.  4fl 

6.  Their  master's  and  their  mistress's  command 
The  younkers  a'  are  warned  to  obey ; 

An'  mind  their  hibors  wi'  an  eydent  hand ; 
An'  ne'er,  though  out  o'  sight,  to  jauk  or  play : 
"An',  oh  I  be  sure  to  fear  the  Lord  ahvay,  50 

An'  mind  your  duty  duly,  morn  an'  night. 
Lest  in  temptation's  path  ye  gang  astray, 
Implore  His  counsel  and  assisting  might: 
They  never  sought  in  vain  that  sought  the  Lord  aright.'* 

7.  But,  hark  ;  a  rap  comes  gently  to  the  door :  66 
Jenny,  wha  kens  the  meaning  o'  the  same, 

Tells  how  a  neebor-lad  cam'  o'er  the  moor 
To  do  some  errands,  and  convoy  her  hame. 
The  wily  mother  sees  the  conscious  flame 
S])arkle  in  Jenny's  e'e  and  Hush  her  cheek ;  <0 

With  heart-struck  anxious  care  in(]uires  his  namej 
Wh/ile  Jenny  halilins  is  afraid  to  speak : 
Weel  pleased,  the  mother  hears  it's  nae  wild,  worthless  rake. 


Notes. — 44.  Gars    auld    claes, 
makes  old  clothes. 

47.  younkers,  youngstei-s 

48.  eydent,  diligent. 

49.  jauk,  trifle. 


56.  wha,  who. 

58.  convoy,  accompany. 

59.  wily,  cautious. 
G2   hafflins,  partly. 
63.  nae,  no. 


Analysis. — 44.  as  wed's  the  new.     Explain. 

47.  warniSd.     Notice  the  pronimciation. 

50.  Why  alway  instead  of  aluaynf 

6L  dvhj.     What  duty  morn  and  night  ? 

50  -54.  Notice  that  these  lines  are  a  direct  quotation. 

65.  Dispose  of  the  word  hark. 

57.  What  is  the  object  of  IclU  t 

59.  coTiacious  flame.     What  figure  ? 

60.  Grammatical  con3tructir)n  of  Sparklet 


ROBERT  BURNS. 


163 


8.  Wi'  kindly  welcome,  Jenny  brings  him  ben ; 

A  strappan  youth,  he  taks  the  mother's  eye :  56 

Blythe  Jenny  sees  the  visit's  no  ill  ta'en; 
The  father  ci^acks  of  horses,  pleiighs,  and  kye. 
The  youngster's  artless  heart  o'erflows  wi' joy, 
But,  blate  and  laithfu',  scarce  can  weel  behave . 
The  mother,  wi'  a  woman's  wiles,  can  spy  '0 

What  makes  the  youth  sae  bashfu'  an'  sae  grave; 
Weel  pleased  to  think  her  bairn's  respected  like  the  lave. 

9.  Oh  happy  love,  where  love  like  this  is  found ! 
Oh  heartfelt  raptures  I  bliss  beyond  compare  I 

I've  paced  much  this  weary  mortal  round,  75 

And  sage  experience  bids  me  this  declare, — 
"  If  Heaven  a  draught  of  heavenly  pleasure  spare, 
One  cordial  in  this  melancholy  vale, 
'Tis  when  a  youthful,  loving,  modest  pair. 
In  other's  arms  breathe  out  the  tender  tale  80 

Beneath  the  milk-white  thorn  that  scents  the  evening  gale." 


Notes. — 64.  ben ;  that  is,  in  or 
into  the  room. 

65.  strappan,    tall     and     hand- 
some, 
taks,  takes. 


G7.  cracks,  talks. 

kye,  kine  or  cows. 
69.  blate,  bashful. 

laithfu',  reluctant. 
72.  the  lave,  tlie  others. 


Analysis. — 65.  taks  the  mother's  eye.     Wliat  figure  ?    Why  is  the 
word  written  eye  in  this  line  and  e'e  in  line  60  ? 
66.  Write  the  line  in  prose. 

68.  Who  is  meant  by  youngster  in  this  line  ? 

69.  Grammatical  construction  of  blate,  lailh/a',  and  behave  t    Trace 
the  etymology  of  blate. 

70.  Name  tlie  object  of  can  spy. 

72.  What  does  the  line  modify  ? 

73.  What  figure  in  tlie  line? 

74.  compare.     This  is  a  figure  of  Enallage.     For  what  ia  the  wore 
a  Bubdtitute  ? 

76.  experience  bids,  etc.     What  figure?      What  is  the  object  of 
declare  f 

78.  Name  the  figures  in  this  line. 
80.  Supply  the  ellii^sis  in  the  line. 


164 


STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURK 


10.  Is  there,  in  human  form,  that  bears  a  heart, — 
A  wretch  1  a  villain  I  lost  to  love  and  truth  1 
That  can,  with  studied,  sly,  ensnaring  art, 
Betray  sweet  Jenny's  unsuspecting  youth  ? 
Curse  on  his  perjured  arts!  dissembling  smooth  1 
Are  honor,  virtue,  conscience,  all  exiled  ? 
Is  there  no  pity,  no  relenting  ruth, 
Points  to  the  parents  fondling  o'er  their  child? 
Then  paints  the  ruin'd  maid,  and  their  distraction  wild  f 


85 


90 


11.  But  now  the  supper  crowns  their  simple  board, 
The  halesome  parritch,  chief  o'  Scotia's  food : 
The  soupe  their  only  hawkie  does  afford. 
That  'yont  the  hallan  snugly  chows  her  cood : 
The  dame  brings  forth  in  complimental  mood, 
To  grace  the  lad,  her  weel-hain'd  kebbuck  fell, 
An'  aft  he's  prest,  an'  aft  he  ca's  it  guid : 
The  frugal  wifie,  garrulous,  will  tell, 
IIow  'twas  a  towmond  auld,  sin'  lint  was  i'  the  bell. 


95 


12.  The  cheerfu'  supper  done,  wi'  serious  face, 
They  round  the  ingle  form  a  circle  wide; 


100 


Notes. — 88.  ruth,  mercy  or  pity. 

92.  parritch,  porridge. 

93.  soupe,  milk. 

hawkie,   a   pet   name   for   a 

cow. 
94   'yont,  beyond. 

hallan,  a  partition-wall  in  a 

cottage. 


96.  weel-hain'd,    carefully   pre- 
served, 
kebbuck,  cheese, 
fell,  tastefid. 
99.  towmond,  twelvemonth, 
auld,  old. 

sin'  lint  was  i'  the  bell,  ain^ 
flax  wa^  in  Uie  blowoiu. 


Analysis. — 87.  With  what  is  all  in  apposition? 
89,  90.  "What  is  the  subject  of  Points  and  paints  f 
92    Sr^jl id's  food.     What  figure? 
95.  Meiming  of  complimenlulf 

98.  wilt  tell.     Tlie  future  tense  ia  used  here  for  the  present  bj 
poetic  license. 
101.  cheerfu,' au]>per.     Wliat  figure? 


ROBERT  BURNS. 


165 


The  fl'ire  turns  o'er,  wi'  patriarclial  grace, 
The  big  ha'  Bible,  ance  his  father's  pride : 
Hia  bonnet  reverently  is  laid  aside, 

His  lyart  haffets  wearing  thin  an'  bare ;  lOS 

Those  strains  that  once  did  sweet  in  Zion  glide, 
lie  wales  a  portion  with  judicious  care ; 
And  "  Let  us  worship  God  1"  he  says,  with  solemn  air 

13.  They  chant  their  artless  notes  in  simple  guise ; 

They  tune  their  hearts,  by  far  the  noblest  aim :  110 

Perhaps  Dundee's  wild,  warbling  measures  rise; 
Or  plaintive  Martyrs,  worthy  of  the  name ; 
Or  noble  Elgin  beats  the  heavenward  flame, — 
The  sweetest  far  of  Scotia's  holy  lays : 

Compared  with  these,  Italian  trills  are  tame;  115 

The  tickled  ear  no  heartfelt  raptures  raise ; 
Nae  unison  hae  they  with  our  Creator's  praise. 

14.  The  priest-like  father  reads  the  sacred  page, — 
How  Abram  was  the  friend  of  God  on  high ; 

Or  Moses  bade  eternal  warfare  wage  120 

With  Amalek's  ungracious  progeny  ; 


Notes.— 103.  ha'  Bible,  the  Bi- 
ble kept  in  tlie  hall. 
105.  lyart,  grayish. 

haffets,  temples,  or  sides  of 
the  head. 


106.  Zion,  a  psalm-tune. 

107.  wales,  chooses. 

111-113.  Dundee,  Martyrs,  El- 
gin  ;  these  also  are  Scot- 
tish  psalm-tuues. 


Analysis. — 108.  Name  the  object  of  says. 

109.  What  is  tlie  meaning  of  guise  f 

110.  by  far  the  noblest  aim.     Give  grammatical  constriictioo. 
113.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

116.  tickled  ear.     What  figure? 
raise.     Is  this  correct  ? 

117.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  theyf 

118.  Supply  the  ellipsis  in  the  line. 
118-124.  Name  the  objects  of  reads. 
120.  Gnmnnatical  construction  of  wagef 
120,  121.  Give  the  meaning  of  these  lines. 


166         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Or  how  the  royal  bard  did  groaning  lie 
Beneath  the  stroke  of  Heaven's  avenging  ire; 
Or  Job's  pathetic  plaint  and  wailing  cry; 
Or  rapt  Isaiah's  wild,  seraphic  fire;  129 

Or  other  holy  seers  that  tune  the  sacred  lyre. 

16  Perhaps  the  Christian  volume  is  the  theme, — 
How  guiltless  blood  for  guilty  man  was  shed ; 
How  ITe  who  bore  in  heaven  the  second  )iame 
Had  not  on  earth  whereon  to  lay  his  head ;  130 

How  his  first  followers  and  servants  sped 
The  precepts  sage  they  wrote  to  many  a  land; 
How  he,  who,  lone  in  Patnios  banished, 
Saw  in  the  sun  a  mighty  angel  stand, 
And  heard  great  Babylon's  doom  pronounced  by  Heaven's       135 
command. 

16.  Then,  kneeling  down,  to  Heaven's  Eternal  King 

The  saint,  the  fatlier,  and  the  husband  prays: 

Hope  "springs  exulting  on  triumphant  wing" 

That  thus  they  all  sliall  meet  in  future  days, 

There  ever  bask  in  uncreated  rays,  140 

No  more  to  sigh,  or  shed  the  bitter  tear, 

Together  hymning  their  Creator's  praise 


Analysis. — 122.  Who  was  the  royal  bard  * 

124.  pathetic  plaint.     Notice  the  alliteration.     'Meaning  of  plaitU  f 

127.  Meaninf^  of  theme  f 

129.  To  what  does  He  refer? 

130.  Supply  ellipsis.     I)i*^»rte  of  whereon. 
133-135.  To  whom  do  these  lines  refer? 
135.  Heaven' X  command.     What  figure? 

137.  Justify  tlie  use  of  prays  instead  of  pray. 

138  J  Tope  springs,  etc.     What  figure? 

138,  139.  Notice  that  Hope  ia  used  here  both   figuratively  and 
literaLy. 

139  That  ihm,  etc.    What  kind  of  mo<lifier? 

140.  To  what  does  There  refer? 

141.  Granunatical  construction  of  to  sigh  and  shedf 

142.  Give  a  synonym  for  hymning. 


ROBERT  BURNS.  167 

In  such  society,  yet  still  more  dear, 
While  circling  Time  moves  round  in  an  eternal  sphere. 

17    Compared  with  this,  how  poor  Religion's  pride,  Ua 

In  all  the  pomp  of  method  and  of  art, 
When  men  display  to  congregations  wide 
Devotion's  every  grace  except  the  heart  1 
The  Power,  incensed,  the  pageant  will  desert, 
The  pompous  strain,  the  sacerdotal  stole ;  160 

But  haply,  in  some  cottage  far  apart. 
May  hear,  well  pleased,  the  language  of  the  soul, 
And  in  his  book  of  life  the  inmates  poor  enroll. 

18.  Then  homeward  all  take  off  their  several  way ; 

The  youngling  cottagers  retire  to  rest ;  155 

The  parent  pair  their  secret  homage  pay, 
And  proffer  up  to  Heaven  the  warm  request. 
That  He  who  stills  the  raven's  clamorous  nest, 
And  decks  the  lily  fair  in  flowery  pride, 

Would,  in  the  way  His  wisdom  sees  the  best,  160 

For  them  and  for  their  little  ones  provide ; 
But,  chiefly,  in  their  hearts  with  grace  divine  preside. 


Notes. — 150.  stole,  a  long  nar- 
row scarf  with  fringetl 
edges. 


151.  far  apart,  distant  from  others. 

151.  take  off,  depart. 

155.  younghng,  etc.,  the  children 


ANAiiYSis. — 143.  The  meaning  of  society  here  ? 

144.  What  figure  in  the  line  ?     The  meaning  of  sphere  f 

145.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line.     Supply  the  elliiwis. 
149,  150.  Give  the  meaning  of  these  lines. 

151-15.3.  Rewrite  in  prose. 
152.   What  is  the  subject  of  May  hear? 
164    Why  is  way  used,  instead  of  tcaj/«? 
156.  iecret  homage.    Give  the  meaning. 
167.  proffer  up.     Criticise. 

158.  ravelins  clamorous  nest.     What  figure? 

159.  Point  out  the  titrnre  in  the  line. 


168         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

19.  From  scenes  like  these  old  Scotia's  grandeur  springs, 
That  makes  her  loved  at  home,  revered  abroad : 

Princes  and  lords  are  but  the  breath  of  kings,  16fi 

"An  honest  man's  the  noblest  work  of  God." 
And  certes,  in  fair  virtue's  heavenly  road 
The  cottage  leaves  the  palace  far  behind. 
What  is  a  lordling's  pomp?  a  cumbrous  load, 
Disguising  oft  the  wretch  of  human  kind,  170 

Studied  in  arts  of  Hell,  in  wickedness  refined  1 

20.  O  Scotia  I  my  dear,  my  native  soil! 

For  whom  my  warmest  wish  to  Heaven  is  sent  I 
Long  may  thy  hardy  sons  of  rustic  toil 

Be  blest  with  health  and  peace  and  sweet  content  I  176 

And,  oh,  may  Heaven  their  simple  lives  prevent 
From  Luxury's  contagion,  weak  and  vile  I 
Then,  howe'er  crowns  and  coronets  be  rent, 
A  virtuous  populace  may  rise  the  while, 
And  stand  a  wall  of  fire  around  their  much-loved  isle.  180 

21.  O  Thou  I  who  pour'd  the  patriotic  tide 

That  stream'd  through  Wallace's  undaunted  heart; 
Who  dared  to  nobly  stem  tyrannic  pride. 
Or  nobly  die,  the  second  glorious  part. 


Analysis. — 163.  Tlie  meaning  of  Scotia's  f 

164.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  ThcUf 

165.  I'arse  but. 

Explain  the  figure  in  the  line. 
168.  What  figure  in  the  line?     (Jive  the  syntax  of  far  and  behmti 
169-171.  Name  the  subjects  and  the  predicates  in  these  lines. 
172,  173.  Point  out  the  figure. 
178    crowns  and  coronets  be  rent.     What  figure? 
179,  Grammatical  construction  of  while  f 
18C  Parse  wall.     Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

181.  Name  the  figure  in  this  line. 

182.  Who  wafl  Wallace,  referred  to  in  this  line? 

183.  to  nobly  stem.     Criticise.     What  is  the  antecedent  of  Whof 

184.  the  second  glorious  part.     Dispose  of  second. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  169 

(The  patriot's  God  peculiarly  Tbou  art,  181 

His  friend,  inspirer,  guardian,  and  reward  1) 
Oh,  never,  never,  Scotia's  realm  desert ; 
But  still  the  patriot,  and  the  patriot-bard, 
In  bright  succession  raise,  her  ornament  and  guard  I 


Analysis. — 185,  186   Analyze  the  sentence. 
189.  To  what  do  ornament  and  ytuird  refer? 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS. 

POETS. 

James  Beattie  (1735-1803). — A  Scotch  poet.  Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy  and  Logic  at  Aberdeen.  Educated  at  Maris- 
chal  College.  Author  of  The  Minstrel,  published  in  1771.  Died 
of  paralysis. 

James  Macpherson  (1738-1796). — Born  at  Kingussie,  Scot- 
land. Educated  at  Aberdeen.  Author  of  Fingal  and  Temora, 
two  epics. 

Thomas  Chatterton  (1752-1770).— Known  as  the  "Boy  Poet." 
Author  of  a  number  of  poems  written  in  imitation  of  the  older 
English  poetry.    Committed  suicide  at  the  age  of  eighteen. 

PROSE-WBITERS. 

1.  Historians: 

David  Hume  (1711-1776). — Both  an  historian  and  a  meta- 
physician. Bora  in  Edinburgh.  Became  a  lawyer,  but,  dis- 
liking law,  chose  literature  as  his  calling.  Was  a  skeptic. 
Author  of  History  of  England,  Political  Discourses,  etc. 

William  Robertson  (1721-1793).— An  eloquent  Scotch  Pres- 
byterian preacher.  Author  of  a  History  of  Scotland,  History  of 
Charles  V.  of  Oermany,  and  History  of  America. 

Edward  Gibbon  (1737-1794).— One  of  England's  most  illus- 
trious historical  writers.  Author  of  Decline  and  Fall  ?/"  tlis 
Roman  Empire. 

2.  Nor^elists: 

Samuel  Richardson  (1689-1761).— The  founder  of  "the  ro- 
man('e  of  private  life."     Up  to  the  age  of  fifty  he  was  a  printer. 


170  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

His  first  novel  was  Pamela  (1740).  Author  also  of  CLiHsfa 
Hnrlowe  and  Sir  Charles  Grandlson. 

Henry  Fielding  (1707-1754).— Educated  at  Etou.  At  first  a 
dramatic  writer,  then  a  lawyer,  but,  meeting  with  no  success, 
he  resorted  to  literature  for  a  living.  Author  of  Joseph  An- 
drews,  Tom  Jones,  Jonathan  Wild,  antl  Amelia. 

Laurence  Sterne  (1713-1768), — An  irreligious  parson.  Edu- 
cated at  Cambridge.  Author  of  IVistram  Shandy  and  A  Senti- 
mental  Journey. 

Tobias  George  Smollett  (1721-1771). — Educated  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Glasgow.  Was  for  a  time  surgeon's  mate  in  the  navy. 
Began  his  career  as  a  novelist  in  1748.  Author  of  Roderick 
Random,  Peregrine  Pickle,  and  Humphrey  Clinker. 

Hannah  More  (1745-1833). — A  great  favorite  of  Dr.  Johu- 
Bon's.  Wrote  dramas,  tales,  and  some  works  on  education. 
Author  of  Oxlebs  in  Search  of  a  Wife,  7'Ae  Shepherd  of  Salisbury 
Plain,  Female  Education,  etc. 

3.  Theologians  and  Metaphysicians  : 

Philip  Doddridge  (1702-1751). — Eemarlcable  as  a  theological 
writer.  Author  of  Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion  in  the  Soul, 
Passages  in  the  Life  of  Colonel  Gardiner,  and  Family  Fjpositor. 

Thomas  Reid  (1710-179G). — A  Scotchman,  and  Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy  at  Aberdeen  and  Glasgow.  Author  of  Essayt 
on  the  Intellectual  and  Active  Powers  of  Man  and  Inquiry  into  the 
Humnn  Mind,  an  answer  to  the  skepticism  of  Hume. 

John  Wesley  (1703-1791).— Educated  at  Oxford.  His  be.st- 
kiiown  works  are  his  Journal  and  his  Hyians,  in  the  latter  of 
wliicli  he  was  assisted  by  his  brother  Charles. 

William  Paley  (1743-1805).— Educated  at  Cambridge.  Be- 
came archdeacon  of  Carlisle.  Author  of  Moral  and  Political 
Philosophy,  Evidences  of  Christianity,  and  Natural  Tlieology. 

4.  Piilitical  and  Miscellaneous  Writers  : 

Edmund  Burke  (1730-1797). — Noted  as  a  political  writer  and 
orator  of  great  power.  Born  in  Dublin.  Was  educated  at 
Trinity  College,  Dublin.  Became  a  member  of  Parliament. 
One  of  his  miisterpicces  of  elofjiience  is  his  nine  days'  speech 
in  the  impeachment-trial  of  Warren  Hastings,  governor-gen- 
eral of  India.     His  most  celebrated  works,  in  addition  to  the 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WEITEEJb.  l71 

address  referred  to,  are  his  Essay  on  tht  Sublime  and  Beautiful, 
Rejiedions  on  the  French  Revolution,  and  his  Letter  to  a  Noble 
Lord  (duke  of  Bedford). 

Junius. — The  name  of  the  author  who  wrote,  under  this  nom- 
de-plume,  a  series  of  political  letters  characterized  by  fierce  in- 
vective and  brilliant  sarcasm,  is  unknown.  Their  writer  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  Sir  Philip  Fkancis,  born  in  Dublin  in 
1740,  who  was  chief  clerk  in  the  War  Office  from  1763  to  1772. 

Horace  Walpole  (1717-1797). — A  racy  and  sparkling  writer 
of  letters.  Was  a  member  of  Parliament  for  twenty-six  years. 
Author  of  a  romance,  The  Castle  of  Otranto,  and  some  Letters 
and  Afemoirs  of  hist  time  which  are  unrivaled  in  their  way. 

Sir  William  Blackstone  (1723-1780).— A  celebrated  lawyer. 
Author  of  Comvientaries  on  the  Laws  of  England. 

James  Boswell  (1740-1795). — The  son  of  a  Scottish  judge. 
A  constant  companion  of  Dr.  Johnson.  Author  of  Life  of 
Johnson. 

Adam  Smith  (1723-1790).— Author  of  The  Wealth  of  Nations, 
which  work  laid  the  foundation  for  the  science  of  Political 
I^'ouomy.  Was  Professor  of  Mental  Philosophy  at  Glasgow. 
Author  also  of  The  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments. 

Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan  (1751-1816). — A  great  orator  and 
an  excellent  dramatic  writer.  His  two  most  popular  comedies 
are  TIte  Rivals  and  The  School  for  Scandal. 


V  11. 

AGE  OF  SCOTT. 

1800-1830. 

Reigns  of  George  III.  and  George  IV. 

The  Age  of  Scott  is  known  also  as  the  Age  of  Ko- 
mantic  Poetry.  The  early  years  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury having  been  full  of  excitement,  the  chief  literary 
productions  of  this  period  are  cliaracterized  by  intense 
passion  and  emotion.  No  other  era  of  English  literature 
presents  so  many  masters  of  verse.  The  artificial  in 
poetry  entirely  disappears,  and  romance  and  passion  be- 
come the  fountain  of  poetic  insj)iration.  Many  of  the 
writers  of  this  era — Scott,  Coleridge,  Southey,  Wilson, 
Campbell,  and  others — were  distinguished  in  both  poetry 
and  prose. 


U.  LORD   BYRON, 

1788-1824. 


George  Gordon  Bvron  was  born  in  London  on  the 
22d  of  January,  1788.  Ilis  fatlier,  John  Byron,  was  a 
profligate  captain  of  the  Guards,  and  his  motiier,  Cath- 
arine Byron,  a  Scotcli  heiress.  ^V'hen  George  was  but 
two  years  old  both  he  and  his  mother  were  abandoned 
by  his  uni)rinci])led  fatlicr.  His  motbcr,  with  her  lame 
boy,  then  retired  to  Aberdeen,  to  live  as  well  as  she 

172 


LORD  BYRON.  173 

could  on  an  annual  income  of  one  hundred  and  thjrty 
pounds 

At  the  age  of  eleven  Byron  became  Lord  Byron  and 
owner  of  Newstead  Abbey  through  the  death  of  his 
grand-uncle,  a  man  of  eccentric  character.  His  mother 
at  once  sold  her  household  goods,  and  with  her  son  took 
possession  of  Newstead.  At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  be- 
came a  student  at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  but  his 
etay  continued  only  two  years.  His  irregularities  much 
annoyed  the  college  dons.  Among  other  freaks,  he  kept 
for  some  time  several  bulldogs  and  a  bear  in  his  room, 
the  latter  of  which  he  introduced  to  his  visitors  as  pre- 
paring to  become  one  of  the  college  officers. 

His  first  verses,  entitled  Hours  of  Idleness,  were  pub- 
lished in  1807.  They  contained  many  weak  points,  and 
immediately  a  caustic  criticism,  supposed  to  have  been 
written  by  Lord  Brougham,  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh 
Review.  The  criticism  aroused  the  poet's  ire,  and  he 
replied  in  a  satire  entitled  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Re- 
vieivers. 

Two  years  (1809  to  1811)  were  spent  by  Byron  in 
travel  through  Spain  and  Turkey,  and  here  he  gath- 
ered much  of  the  material  which  afterward  appeared 
in  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage.  When  the  first  two  cantos 
of  this  poem  were  published  in  1812  they  took  England 
by  storm,  and,  though  the  poet  was  then  but  twenty- 
four  years  of  age,  he  was  placed  by  unanimous  consent 
at  the  head  of  the  London  literary  world,  and  the  treat- 
ment of  Burns  in  Edinburgh  was  repeated  in  the  wor- 
ship and  homage  paid  to  Byron  in  the  fashionable  par- 
lors of  London.  This  lionizing  continued  for  three  years, 
during  which  time  he  became  a  member  of  the  House 
of  Lords. 

In  1815  he  married  Miss  Milbanke,  but  almost  from 
the  beginning  the  union  was  an  unluippy  one,  and  after 


174  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

a  year's  quarrels  and  estrangements  they  separated,  she 
returning  with  her  infant  daughter  to  her  father's  houee. 
Byron  found  liimself  ahuscd  in  the  papers  and  hissed 
in  the  streets  for  his  treatment  of  his  wife,  and  in  the 
spring  of  1816  he  left  England  in  disgust,  and  never 
again  saw  his  native  land. 

He  wandered  over  Europe,  crossed  the  Jura,  and 
finally  reached  Italy,  where,  at  Venice  and  Ravenna 
and  Pisa  and  Rome,  he  led  a  wild,  irregular  life  of  dis- 
sipation, from  which  he  was  saved  only  by  an  illegiti- 
mate attachment  to  a  young  Romagnese  lady,  the 
countess  of  Guiccioli,  who  had  married  a  wealthy 
nobleman  thrice  her  own  age.  It  was  during  his  stay 
at  these  cities  that  he  wrote  most  of  his  poems,  which 
brought  him  thousands  of  pounds.  Here  also  he  wrote 
several  dramas.  In  the  summer  of  1823  he  set  sail  for 
Greece  to  aid  that  country  in  its  struggles  for  indei)end- 
ence.  He  reached  Missolonghi,  in  \\'estern  Greece,  on 
the  4th  of  January,  1824.  Here  he  found  everything 
in  discord  and  confusion,  but  his  ])lans  were  thorouglily 
pre])ared,  and  in  the  space  of  three  months,  witli  his  in- 
fluence and  his  money,  he  had  succeeded  in  reducing 
the  contending  factions  to  order.  But  on  the  9th  of 
April,  being  overtaken  by  a  heavy  shower,  lie  became 
at  once  the  victim  of  rheumatism  and  a  treacherous 
fever,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  intli  he  died.  Tlie 
people  of  Greece  publicly  mourned  his  death,  and  "  his 
l)and  of  turbulent  Suliotcs  gathered,  pale  and  tearful, 
around  his  coffin "  when  the  funeral-service  was  read. 
Hie  body  was  sent  to  England  for  burial,  and  was  in- 
terred in  tlie  fcimily-vault  near  Newstead. 

Byron's  most  important  poems  are  Childe  Harold,  Tht 
Dream,  The  Prisoner  of  ChiUon,  Mazejypa,  The  Bride  of 
Abydos,  Parisina,  The  Giaour,  The  Siege  of  Corinth^  Bq^po, 
Tlie  Lame^il  of  Tasso,  The  Prophecy  of  Dante,  and  Don  Juan. 


LORD  BYRON.  175 

CRITICISM  BY  MACAULAY. 

He  was  truly  a  spoiled  child — not  merely  tht  spoiled 
child  of  his  parents,  but  the  spoiled  child  of  Nat.ire,  the 
spoiled  cliild  of  Fortune,  the  spoiled  child  of  Fame,  the 
spoiled  child  of  Society.  His  lirst  poems  were  received 
with  a  contempt  which,  feeble  as  they  were,  they  did  not 
absolutely  deserve.  The  poem  which  he  published  on 
his  return  from  his  travels  was,  on  the  other  hand,  ex- 
tolled far  above  its  merits.  At  twenty-four  he  found 
himself  on  the  highest  pinnacle  of  literary  fame,  with 
Scott,  Wordsworth,  Soutliey,  and  a  crowd  of  other  dis- 
tinguished writers  beneath  his  feet.  There  is  scarcely 
an  instance  in  history  of  so  sudden  a  rise  to  so  dizzy 
an  eminence 

The  obloquy  which  Byron  had  to  endure  was  such  as 
might  well  have  shaken  a  more  constant  mind.  The 
newspapers  were  filled  with  lampoons.  The  theatres 
shook  with  execrations.  He  was  excluded  from  circles 
where  he  had  lately  been  the  observed  of  all  observers. 

The  unhappy  man  left  his  country  for  ever.  The  howl 
of  contumely  followed  him  across  the  sea,  up  the  Rhine, 
over  the  Alps  ;  it  gradually  waxed  fainter;  it  died  away. 
Those  who  had  raised  it  began  to  ask  each  other  what, 
after  all,  was  the  matter  about  which  the}'^  had  been  so 
clamorous,  and  wished  to  invite  back  the  criminal  wliom 
they  had  just  chased  from  them.  His  poetry  became 
more  popular  tlian  it  had  ever  been,  and  his  complaints 
were  read  with  tears  by  thousands  and  tens  of  thou- 
sands wlio  had  never  seen  his  face.  He  had  fixed  his 
liome  on  the  sliores  of  the  Adriatic.  He  plunged  into 
wild  and  desperate  excesses.  His  health  sunk  under 
the  eifects  of  his  intem^)erance.  His  verse  lost  much 
of  the  energy  and  condensation  which  had  distinguished 
i-.     But  he  would  not  resign  without  a  struggle.    A  new 


176         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

dream  of  ambition  arose  before  him — to  be  the  centre 
of  a  literary  party.  The  plan  failed,  and  failed  igno- 
miniously. 

CHILDE  HAEOLD'S  PILGRIMAGE. 
Note. — The  following  are  tlie  ten  closing  sUnzas  of  Childe  Hurdd^t 
IHliji- image,  the  poem  which  e^tablislied  Byron's  fame  and  which  mad« 
him  the  idol  of  English  literary  circles. 

1.  Oh  I  that  the  desert  were  my  dwelling-place 
With  one  fair  spirit  for  my  minister, 

That  I  might  all  forget  the  human  race, 
And,  hating  no  one,  love  but  only  her  I 
Ye  elements  I — in  whose  ennobling  stir  8 

I  feel  myself  exalted — can  ye  not 
Accord  me  such  a  being?     Do  I  err 
In  deeming  such  inhabit  many  a  spot? 
Though  with  them  to  converse  can  rarely  be  our  lot. 

2.  There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods ;  10 
There  is  a  rapture  on  the  lonely  shore; 

There  is  society,  where  none  intrudes. 

By  the  deep  sea,  and  music  in  its  roar; 

I  love  not  man  the  less,  but  Nature  more, 

From  these  our  interviews,  in  which  I  steal  18 

From  all  I  may  be,  or  have  been  before, 

Analysis. — 3.  Explain  all  forget  the  huvian  race. 
1-4.  What  kind  of  sentence,  grammatically  ? 

4.  love.     Give  grammatical  constructioo. 

5.  Ye  elements /    What  figure? 

5,  6.  in  wliose  ....  exalted.    Give  the  syntax. 

8.  Supply  the  ellipsis. 

9,  What  is  the  subject  of  can  bet 

10,  Syntax  of  There f    What  is  the  subject  of  the  clause? 

13.  Give  tiie  syntax  of  music. 

14.  What  is  the  office  of  not  and  /e.ss? 

15.  From  l/iese,  etc.     What  is  the  antecedent? 
these  our.     Wliat  is  the  syntax  ? 

16.  16.  in  which  I  steal  from  all  I  may  be.     Give  the  meaning. 
15-18.  Give  the  modifiers  of  steal  .  ...  all  conceal.     Give  the  ijo- 

tax  of  <UL 


LORD  BYRON.  177 

To  mingle  with  the  universe,  and  feel 
What  I  can  ne'er  express,  yet  can  not  all  conceaL 

8    Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean,  roll  I 

Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  iu  vain:  20 

Man  marks  the  earth  with  ruin  ;  his  control 

Stops  with  the  shore :  U{)on  the  watery  plain 

The  wrecks  are  all  thy  deed  ;  nor  doth  remain 

A  shadow  of  man's  ravage,  save  his  own, 

\VTien  for  a  moment,  like  a  drop  of  rain,  26 

He  sinks  into  thy  depths  with  bubbling  groan, 

Without  a  grave,  unknelled,  uncoffiued,  and  unknown. 

4.  His  steps  are  not  upon  thy  paths ;  thy  fields 
Are  not  a  spoil  for  him  ;  thou  dost  arise 

And  shake  him  from  thee ;  the  vile  strength  he  wields      30 
For  earth's  destruction  thou  dost  all  despise, 
Spurning  him  from  thy  bosom  to  the  skies, 
And  send'st  him,  shivering  in  thy  playful  spray. 
And  howling,  to  his  gods,  where  haply  lies 
His  petty  hope  in  some  near  port  or  bay ;  35 

And  dashest  him  again  to  earth, — there  let  him  lay  1 

5.  The  armaments  which  thunderstrike  the  walls 
Of  rock-built  cities,  bidding  nations  quake, 
And  monarch  tremble  in  their  capitals ; 

The  oak  leviathans,  whose  huge  ribs  make  40 

Their  clay  creator  the  vain  title  take 


Analysis. — 19.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 
20.   Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep,  etc.     What  figure? 

23.  all.     What  does  the  word  modify  ? 

24.  Give  the  syntax  of  save. 

25.  2(5.  like  a  drop  .  ...  He  sinks.    What  figure?    Give  the  syntax 
©f  nice  and  drop. 

31.  all  despise.    Give  the  syntax  of  all. 
28-36.  What  figure  nms  throu<;h  the  stanza? 
36.  there  let  him  lay.     Would  this  be  correct  as  pitwe? 
37-39.  Give  the  meaning  of  these  lines. 
40-43.  Give  the  meaning  of  these  lines. 
41.  elay  creator.    Give  the  \neaning. 
12 


178  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LlTERATVRh, 

Of  lord  of  thee,  and  arbiter  of  war,- 
These  are  thy  toys;  and,  as  the  snowy  flake, 
They  melt  into  thy  yeast  of  waves,  which  mar 
Alike  the  Armada'a  pride  or  spoils  of  Trafalgar.  46 

6.  Tliy  shores  are  empires,  changed  in  all  save  thee. 
Assyria,  Greece,  Rome,  Carthage, — what  are  they? 
Thy  waters  wasted  them  while  they  were  free, 
And  many  a  tyrant  since ;  their  shores  obey 

The  stranger,  slave,  or  savage ;  their  decay  80 

Has  dried  up  realms  to  deserts  :  not  so  thou ; 
Unchangeable  save  to  thy  wild  waves'  play, 
Time  writes  no  wrinkle  on  thine  azure  brow : 
Such  as  creation's  dawn  beheld,  thou  rollest  now. 

7.  Thou  glorious  mirror,  where  the  Almighty's  form  65 
Glasses  itself  in  tempests ;  in  all  time, — 

Calm  or  convulsed,  in  breeze  or  gale  or  storm, 
Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime 
Dark-heaving :  boundless,  endless,  and  sublime, — 
The  image  of  Eternity,  the  throne  60 

Of  the  Invisible:  even  from  out  thy  slime 
The  monsters  of  the  deep  are  made ;  each  zone 
Obeys  thee ;  thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless,  alone. 


ANAiiYSis. — 43.  What  are  the  antecedenta  of  Tltesef 

43.  44.  as  the  snovyy  flake,  They  mell.     What  figure? 

44.  yeast  of  waves.     AVhat  figure  ? 

45.  Give  the  meaning  of  Armada'a  pride;  also,  spoda  of  Trafalgar. 

46.  save  thee.     Parse  save. 

47.  Assyria,  Greece,  etc.     Give  syntax. 
49.  And  many  a  lyrnnt  sinre.     Explain. 

50,51.  their  decay  Ilns  dried  up  realms  to  deserts.   Give  the  meaning. 

61.  not  so  thou.     Give  the  syntax. 

52.  Parse  Unchangeahle. 

63.  thine  azure  brow.     Give  Bvntax. 

65,  56.  the  Almighty's  form  Glaaxes  it'<df.     What  figure? 

66-6\.  Point  out  the  figure. 

61,  62   from  out  thy  slime  .  ...  are  made.     What  figure? 

62,  63.  each  zone  Obeus  thee.     What  fijrure? 


LORD  BYRON.  179 

8.  And  I  have  loved  thee,  Ocean  I  and  my  joy 

Of  youthful  sports  was  on  thy  breast  to  be  6« 

Borne,  like  thy  bubbles,  onward:  from  a  boy 
I  wantoned  with  thy  breakers ;  they  to  me 
Were  a  delight ;  and,  if  the  freshening  sea 
Made  them  a  terror,  'twas  a  pleasing  fear ; 
For  I  was,  as  it  were,  a  child  of  thee,  70 

And  trusted  to  thy  billows  far  and  near, 
And  laid  my  hand  upon  thy  mane,  as  I  do  here, 

9.  My  task  is  done — my  song  hath  ceased — my  theme 
Has  died  into  an  echo ;  it  is  fit 

The  spell  should  break  of  this  protracted  dream ;  75 

The  torch  shall  be  extinguished  which  hath  lit 
My  midnight  lamp — and  what  is  writ  is  writ. 
Would  it  were  worthier  I  but  I  am  not  now 
That  which  I  have  been — and  my  visions  flit 
Less  palpably  before  me — and  the  glow  80 

Which  in  my  spirit  dwelt  is  fluttering,  faint,  and  low. 

10.  Farewell  1  a  word  that  must  be,  and  hath  been — 
A  sound  which  makes  us  linger, — yet — farewell  I 
Ye !  who  have  traced  the  Pilgrim  to  the  scene 
Which  is  his  last,  if  in  your  memories  dwell  •§ 


Analysis. — 64.  And  I  have  loved,  etc.    What  figure  in  the  line? 

66.  Borne,  like  thy  bubbles,  etc.     What  figure? 

67.  wantoned.     What  is  the  meaning  here? 

68.  Give  the  meaning  of  freshening  sea  f 

71.  Give  the  syntax  of  far  and  near. 

72.  thy  mane.     What  figure? 

74.  What  is  the  meaning  of  jit  here? 

75.  Name  the  modifiers  of  spell. 

76.  Give  the  modifiers  of  torch. 

77.  what  is  unit  is  unit.     Why  this  form  of  the  verb? 

78.  Would  it  were  worthier.     Parse. 
80,  81.  the  glow  ....  low.    Analyze. 

82.  Farewell  I  a  word.    Give  tlie  construction. 

83.  yet— farewell  I    Give  consiruction. 
84-87.  Transpose  and  analyze. 

85,  86.  Explain  the  figure. 


180         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURR 

A  thought  which  once  was  his,  if  on  ye  swell 
A  single  recollection,  not  in  vain 
He  wore  his  sandal-shoon  and  scallop-shell; 
Farewell  I  with  him  alone  may  rest  the  pain, 
If  such  there  were — with  you,  the  moral  of  the  sttain. 


Analysis. — 8G.  stvell.    Is  this  grammatically  correct? 

88.  What  is  the  meaning  of  sandal-shoon  and  scallop-shell  f 

89.  Dispose  of  the  verb  in  lliis  line. 

90.  If  siich  there  were.    Give  the  mode  of  the  verb. 
Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  moral. 


MONT  BLANC. 

Note. — The  following  is  taken  from  Byron's  dramatic  poem  Mam- 
fred.    A  voice,  the  Second  Spirit,  speaks: 

Mont  Blanc  is  the  monarch  of  mountain*' 

They  crown'd  him  long  ago 
On  a  throne  of  rocks,  in  a  robe  of  clouda. 

With  a  diadem  of  snow. 
Around  his  waist  are  forests  braced, 

The  avalanche  in  his  hand; 
But  ere  it  fall,  that  thundering  ball 

Must  pause  for  my  command. 
The  glacier's  cold  and  restless  mass 

Moves  onward  day  by  day ; 
But  I  am  he  who  bids  it  p;us3, 

Or  with  its  ice  delay. 
I  am  the  spirit  of  the  place, 

Could  make  the  mountain  bow 
And  quiver  to  his  caverned  base — 

And  what  with  me  wouldst  Thou  t 


15.  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT, 

1771-1832. 

Walter  Scott,  the  brilliant  and  versatile  Scotch  poet 
and  novelist,  was  born  in  Edinburgh  on  the  15th  of  Au- 
gust, 1771.  His  father  was  a  writer  to  The  Signet,  his 
mother  being  the  daughter  of  an  eminent  physician  of 
Edinburgh.  Walter  at  the  age  of  eighteen  months  was 
made  lame  as  the  result  of  a  severe  teething  fever.  His 
early  education  was  acquired  in  the  Edinburgh  High 
School,  but  he  subsequently  took  a  short  course  in  the 
University  of  Edinburgh. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen  he  was  apprenticed  to  his  father. 
Having  served  his  apprenticeship,  he  began  the  study 
cf  law,  and  in  1792  "  donned  the  wig  and  gown  of  a 
Scottish  advocate."  But  as  a  lawyer  Scott  could  never 
lay  claim  to  much  success.  His  great  delight  was  in 
reading  Spenser,  Percy's  Reliques,  Boccaccio,  and  Frois- 
sart,  and  he  was  well  read  also  in  Shakespeare  and 
Milton. 

His  literary  career  began  with  the  translation  of 
Burger's  Lenore  from  the  German.  This  was  published 
in  1796  Soon  after  this  he  married  Charlotte  Carpen- 
ter, and  they  settled  in  a  cottage  at  Lasswade.  Here  he 
relieved  his  literary  labors  with  cavalry-drills,  for  he  was 
at  this  time  also  quartermaster  of  the  Edinburgh  Light- 
horse. 

In  1799  he  was  appointed  sheriff  of  the  county  of 
Selkirk,  with  a  salary  of  three  hundred  pounds  a  year, 
and  with  his  savings  from  this,  added  to  a  small  fortune 
wliich  his  wife  brought  him,  he  bought  a  farm  on  the 

181 


182  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Tweed,  not  far  from  Yarrow ;  and  it  was  here  that  his 
first  great  poem,  The  Lay  of  the  L(i8t  Minstrel,  was  writ- 
ten. It  was  published  in  1805,  and  it  at  once  placed 
its  author  in  the  foremost  rank  as  an  English  poet.  It 
was  but  the  first  of  a  series  of  romances  in  verse,  among 
the  best  of  which  were  the  two  stirring  poems,  Marviion 
and  Tlte  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

Scott's  habits  as  a  writer  were  among  the  most  regu- 
lar possible.  He  rose  usually  at  five,  dressed  with  care, 
and  went  to  see  his  horses.  At  six  he  was  at  his  desk, 
with  a  dog  or  two  lying  at  his  feet.  Here  he  remained 
until  nine  or  ten,  when  he  breakfasted.  After  breakfast 
he  resumed  writing,  which  he  continued  until  noon. 
During  the  afternoon  he  usually  rode  much,  often  hunt- 
ing hares,  or  glided  back  and  forth  on  the  Tweed  in  his 
boat. 

In  1806,  Scott  was  appointed  one  of  the  clerks  of  the 
Sessions,  which  added  eight  hundred  pounds  a  year  to 
his  income.  He  now  bought  additional  tracts  of  land 
from  time  to  time,  and  built  up  his  noted  home,  Abbots- 
ford.  The  poet  Eyron  about  this  time  was  winning  fame 
rapidly,  and  Scott  at  once  left  the  field  of  poesy  and  be- 
took himself  to  prose.  In  1814  appeared  his  first  prose 
romance,  Waverley,  but  without  the  author's  name.  The 
success  of  this  novel  was  immediately  remarkable.  He 
soon  added  others,  but  so  guarded  was  the  secret  of  the 
author's  name  tliat  even  the  j)rintcrs  found  the  manu- 
8cri])t  copied  by  one  of  the  Ballaiitynes,  his  publishers, 
before  it  was  sent  to  press. 

The  Waverley  series  consists  of  twenty-seven  novels, 
eighteen  of  which  are  historical  in  character,  being 
founded  upon  events  ranging  frcm  the  eleventh  to  the 
eighteenth  century.  Among  the  best  of  these  romances 
are  Guy  Mannering,  Ivanhoe,  Old  Mortality,  H»xrt  of  Mid- 
lothian, Waverley,  Rob  Roy,  Kenihcorth,  and  A  Legend  of 


SIB    WALTER  SCOTT.  183 

Montrose.  While  writing  thps^  romances  he  wrote  also 
th.e  Life  and  Works  of  Lh^yden,  in  eighteen  volumes,  the 
Life  and  Works  of  Dean  Swift,  the  Life  of  Napoleon^  Tales 
of  a  Grandfather,  aad  a  number  of  other  works. 

By  the  failure  of  his  publishers  Scott  found  himself 
at  the  age  of  fifty-five  in  debt  to  the  extei^t  of  one  hun- 
died  and  twenty  thousand  pounds,  and  he  set  to  work 
immediately  to  pay  the  debt  with  the  earnings  of  his 
pen.  Four  years  later,  in  1830,  he  was  stricken  with 
paralysis,  and  from  this  time  onward  he  suffered  at  in- 
tervals attacks  of  both  apoplexy  and  paralysis.  In  1832, 
on  the  21st  of  September,  the  great  author  died,  having 
in  the  six  years  following  the  failure  of  his  publishers 
paid  more  than  half  the  indebtedness  which  he  had  se 
diligently  struggled  to  liquidate. 

Tl)e  honor  of  a  baronetcy,  which  gave  Scott  tlie  title 
"  Sir  Walter,"  was  conferred  on  him  by  King  George  IV.  in 
1820,  in  consideration  of  his  excellence  as  a  writer.  The 
position  of  poet-laureate  was  tendered  him  in  1812,  but 
he  declined  the  honor  with  respectful  thanks.  No  more 
industrious  writer  than  Scott  ever  plied  the  pen.  Indeed, 
his  success  as  a  literary  man  was  due  much  more  to  his 
industry  than  to  his  scholarship. 


CRITICISM  BY  W.  F.  COLLIER. 

Though  facile  princeps  in  his  own  peculiar  realm  of 
poetry,  Scott's  brilliant  renown  rests  chiefly  on  his  novels. 
Tlie  same  love  of  chivalrous  adventure  and  mediaeval 
romance  colors  his  best  works  in  both  branches  of  lit- 
erature. The  author  of  Mannion  and  I7ie  Lady  of  the 
Lake  was  just  the  man  to  produce,  in  maturer  age  and 
with  finer  literary  skill,  tlie  changeful,  pathetic  brilliance 
of  Waverley  and  the  courtly  splendor  of  Kenilwurth.  Of 
his   Doems,   The  Lady   of  the  Lake   is  perhaj)?  the  best 


184         STUDIES  IN  EyOLISH  LITERATURE. 

Nothing  could  8ur})as8,  for  vivid  force,  the  meeting  and 
tlie  duel  hetween  the  disguised  king  and  the  rebel  chief- 
tain, Roderick  Dhu,  or  that  rapid  flight  of  the  Fiery 
Cross  over  mountain  and  moor  by  which  the  clansmen 
are  summoned  to  the  tryst.  The  opening  of  Michael 
Soott's  grave  in  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  and  the  bat- 
tle of  Flodden  at  the  close  of  Marmion,  are  pictures  that 
none  but  true  genius  could  paint.  The  fine  songs  scat- 
tered through  the  works  of  Scott  afford  further  evidence 
of  his  great  poetic  powers.  Who  does  not  know  and 
delight  in  "  Young  Lochinvar  "  and  "Bonnie  Dundee  "? 
Scott  was  eminently  a  painter  in  words.  The  pictur- 
esque was  his  forte.  Witness  the  magnificent  descrip- 
tions of  natural  scenery — sunsets,  stormy  sea,  deep  wood- 
land glades — with  which  many  of  his  chapters  open 
But  his  portraitures  surpass  his  landscapes.  For  va- 
riety and  true  painting  of  character  he  was  undoubt- 
edly the  Shakespeare  of  our  English  prose.  What  a 
crowd  of  names,  "  familiar  as  household  words,"  come 
rushing  on  the  mind  as  we  think  of  the  gallery  of  por- 
traits his  magical  pencil  has  left  for  our  endless  delight 
and  study  1 

LOCHINVAR. 

I. 
Oh,  young  Lochinvar  la  come  out  of  the  West, — 
Through  all  the  wide  Border  his  steed  was  the  best  I 
And,  save  his  good  broadsword,  he  weapon  had  none, — 
He  rode  all  unarmed,  and  he  rode  all  alone. 
So  faithful  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war,  I 

There  never  was  knight  like  the  young  I<ochinvar. 


Anaxysis. — 1.  M  come.     Moilemize. 

2.  wide  Border.     What  figure? 

3.  (iive  tlie  construction  of  save  and  weapon. 

4.  Give  the  syntax  of  lUI,  unarmed,  and  alL 
6.  Parae  so  and  JuUhJuL. 


SIR   WALTER  SCOTT.    '  185 

II. 

He  stayed  not  for  brake,  and  he  stopped  not  for  stone, 

He  swam  the  Eske  river  where  ford  there  was  none ; 

But,  ere  he  alighted  at  Netherby  gate, 

The  bride  had  consented,  the  gallant  came  late:  10 

For  a  laggard  in  love,  and  a  dastard  in  war, 

Was  to  wed  the  fair  Ellen  of  brave  Lochinvar. 

III. 

So  boldly  he  entered  the  Netherby  hall, 
'Mong  bridesmen,  and  kinsmen,  and  brothers,  and  all: 
Then  spoke  the  bride's  father,  his  hand  on  his  sword  15 

(For  the  poor  craven  bridegroom  said  never  a  word), 
''  Oh,  come  ye  in  peace  here,  or  come  ye  in  war, 
Or  to  dance  at  our  bridal,  young  Lord  Lochinvar?" — 

IV. 

'  I  long  wooed  your  daughter, — my  suit  you  denied  ; — 
Love  swells  like  the  Solway,  but  ebbs  like  its  tide ;  20 

And  now  am  I  come,  with  this  lost  love  of  mine 
To  lead  but  one  measure,  drink  one  cup  of  wine. 


Analysis. — 7.  He  stayed  not;  that  is,  he  hesitated  not. 

8.  Dispose  of  none. 

9.  Parse  ere. 

10.  Name  the  modifiers  of  coTisented  .  ...  the  gallant  came  late.    T© 
whom  does  this  refer  ? 

11    What  is  the  meaning  of  la(/gardf 

12.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  to  wed. 

13.  Give  the  syntax  of  so.     What  are  the  nioditiers  of  entered/ 

15.  Sui)ply  ellipsis,  and  give  the  syntax  of  luind. 

16.  Parse  never. 

19.  Write  in  prose  order. 

20.  Point  out  the  figure  in  this  line.     Explain  the  line. 

21.  am  cmne.     What  is  the  connnon  form  ? 

with  this  lout  love.     What  does  the  phrase  modify? 
Give  the  syntax  of  mine. 

22.  To  lead  but  one  measure.     Give  tlie  meaning. 


186         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

riiore  are  maideng  in  Scoti&nd,  more  lovely  by  far, 
Ih\t  would  gladly  be  bride  to  the  young  Lochinvar.'* 

r. 

The  bride  kissed  the  goblet ;  the  knight  took  it  up ;  25 

He  quaffed  off  the  wine,  and  he  threw  down  the  cup. 

Sli«  looked  down  to  blush,  and  she  looked  up  to  sigh. 

With  a  smile  on  her  lip,  and  a  tear  in  her  eye. 

He  took  her  soft  hand,  ere  her  mother  could  bar, — 

Now  tread  we  a  measure  1"  said  youug  Lochinvar.  80 

VI. 

So  stately  his  form,  and  so  lovely  her  face, 

That  never  a  hall  such  a  galliard  did  grace ; 

While  her  mother  did  fret,  and  her  father  did  fume, 

And  the  bridegroom  stood  dungling  his  bonnet  and  plume; 

And  the  bride-maidens  whispered,  "  'Twere  better,  by  far,        35 

To  have  matched  our  fair  cousin  with  young  Lochinvar." 

VII. 

One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear, 

When  they  reached  the  hall-door,  and  the  charger  stood  near; 

So  light  to  the  croupe  the  fair  lady  he  swung, 

So  light  to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung :  40 


Analysis. — 23.  Give  the  constructiou  of  There  and /or. 
23,  24.  Kame  the  modifiers  of  maidens. 

25.  Parse  up. 

26.  Give  the  syntax  of  off  and  doum. 

29.  What  is  the  meaning  of  barf 

30.  " Now  tread  we  a  measure /"     What  is  the  meaning?     Give  tht. 
•rntax  of  tread. 

30    What  is  the  object  of  saidf 

32   What  is  tlie  meaning  of  galliard  f 

35.  Wliat  is  the  object  of  whLtpercdf     Give  the  grammatical  orm 
■ti  iciion  of  'Twere  and /ar.     Name  the  modifiers  of  better. 

36.  Give  the  construction  of  To  have  matched. 
39.  Give  the  construction  of  light. 

37.  38.  Explain  these  lines. 

89.   What  is  tlie  meaning  of  croupe  f 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT  187 

"She  is  won!  we  are  gonel  over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur; 
They'll  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,"  quoth  young  Loch  invar. 

VIII. 

There  was  mounting  'mong  Graemes  of  the  Netherby  clan; 

FoTsters,  Fenwicks,  and  Musgraves,  they  rode  and  they  ran : 

There  was  racing  and  chasing  on  Cannobie  Lee,  45 

But  the  lost  bride  of  Netherby  ne'er  did  they  see 

So  daring  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war, 

Have  ye  e'er  heard  of  gallant  like  young  Lochinvar  T 


Analysis. — 41.  Parse  (/one.     Name  the  modifiers  of  ^one. 

41.  scaur  here  means  a  precipitous  rock. 

42.  Name  the  antecedent  of  that.    Give  the  syntax  and  the  modi- 
ders  of  quoth. 

43.  'mo7ig.     What  figure  of  orthography  ?     Explain  the  line. 

46.  ne'er.     Of  what  is  this  a  contraction?    Give  the  modifiers  of 
■ee. 

47.  What  do  daring  and  dauntless  modify? 

48.  Explain  the  contraction  e'er.    Give  the  constructiou  of  like 
and  Lochinvar 


THE  LAST  MINSTEEL, 
The  way  was  long,  the  wind  was  cold, 
The  Minstrel  was  infirm  and  old ; 
His  withered  cheek,  and  tresses  gray, 
Seemed  to  have  known  a  better  day ; 
The  harp,  his  sole  remaining  joy, 
Was  carried  by  an  orphan  boy : 
The  last  of  all  the  Bards  was  he 
Who  sung  of  Border  chivalry  ; 
For,  well-a-day  1  their  date  was  fled, 
Hia  tuneful  brethren  all  were  dead ; 
And  he,  neglected  and  oppressed. 
Wished  to  be  with  them,  and  at  rest. 
No  more,  on  prancing  palfrey  borne. 
He  caroled,  light  as  lark  at  morn ; 


188         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

No  longer,  courted  and  caressed, 

High  placed  in  hall,  a  welcome  guest, 

He  poured,  to  lord  and  lady  gay, 

The  unpremeditated  lay. 

Old  times  were  changed,  old  manners  gone; 

A  stranger  fills  the  Stuarts'  throne; 

The  bigots  of  the  iron  time 

Had  called  his  harmless  art  a  crime. 

A  wandering  harper,  scorned  and  poor, 

He  begged  his  way  from  door  to  door; 

And  tuned,  to  please  a  peasant's  ear, 

The  harp  a  king  had  loved  to  hear. 


PATRIOTISM. 

Breathes  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 

This  is  my  own,  my  native  land? — 
Whose  heart  hatli  ne'er  within  him  burned, 
As  home  his  footsteps  he  hath  turned 

From  wandering  on  a  foreign  strand? 
If  such  there  breathe,  go,  mark  him  well; 
For  him  no  minstrel  raptures  swell; 
High  though  his  titles,  proud  his  name, 
Boundless  his  wealth  as  wish  can  claim, 
Despite  those  titles,  power,  and  pelf, 
The  wretch,  concentred  all  in  self, 
Living,  shall  forfeit  fair  renown. 
And,  doubly  dying,  shall  go  down 
To  the  vile  dust  from  whence  he  sprung; 
Unwept,  unbonored,  and  unsung. 


16.  SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE, 

1772-1834. 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  a  poet  of  rich  imagina- 
tion and  a  prose-writer  noted  for  his  profound  thought, 
was  born  in  Devonshire  on  the  20th  of  October,  1772. 
His  father  was  vicar  of  the  parish  of  Ottery  St.  Mary. 
Coleridge  was  left  an  orphan  at  an  early  age,  and  his 
education  was  conducted  at  the  orphan  school  of 
Christ's  Hospital,  often  known  as  the  "  Blue-Coat 
School."  Here  he  met  the  genial  and  gentle  Charles 
Lamb,  also  a  Blue-Coat  boy,  and  the  foundation  of  a 
lifelong  friendship  between  the  two  was  established. 
From  the  Blue-Coat  School,  Coleridge  went  in  1791  to 
Jesus  College,  Cambridge,  where  he  remained  two  years. 
By  this  time  he  had  incurred  some  debts,  amounting  to 
nearly  one  hundred  pounds.  This  so  weighed  on  his 
mind  that  he  left  college  and  went  to  London.  Almost 
starving  in  London,  he  enlisted  as  a  soldier  in  the  Fif- 
teenth Light  Dragoons  under  the  assumed  name  of  Com- 
berbach,  but  he  never  rose  above  the  position  of  private 
soldier.  His  captain,  noticing  some  Latin  written  by 
Coleridge  near  his  saddle  hanging  on  the  stable-wall, 
hunted  up  the  soldier's  history  and  inquired  into  his 
circumstances.  As  a  result,  Coleridge  was  released  early 
in  April,  1794.  Soon  after  this  he  met  Southey  in  Bri? 
tcl,  and  these  two,  with  four  other  equally  inexperiencea 
enthusiasts,  planned  a  scheme  of  emigration  to  some 
point  on  the  Susquehanna  in  America,  where  tliey  de- 
signed to  found  a  "  Tantisocracy,"  a  state  of  society  in 

189 


190  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

which  each  was  to  have  his  portion  of  work  t-ssigned, 
the  wives  to  perform  the  household  duties,  and  all 
goods  and  property  to  he  held  in  common.  The  lei- 
sure-time of  the  poets  was  to  be  devoted  to  literature, 
with  no  one  to  interfere  with  their  happiness.  But,  fail- 
ing to  secure  the  necessary  money  to  carry  their  plans 
into  execution,  the  scheme  was  abandoned.  Driven 
again  almost  to  starvation,  Coleridge  was  compelled  to 
seek  employment  with  a  Bristol  bookseller,  and  soon 
thereafter  he  married  a  young  lady  whose  sister  became 
tlie  wife  of  the  poet  Southey.  After  his  marriage  he 
went  to  reside  in  a  cottage  at  Nether  Stowey,  near  Quan- 
tock  Hills,  and  here,  during  the  next  three  years,  he 
wrote  his  best  poems.  Here  were  produced  the  Ode  to 
the  Departing  Year,  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  and 
the  first  part  of  Christabel,  which  it  is  said  he  was 
induced  to  publish  through  the  influence  of  Lord 
Byron. 

In  1798,  through  the  kindness  of  tlie  Wedgewoods  of 
Staffordshire,  Coleridge  was  enabled  to  take  a  fourteen 
months'  trip  to  Germany  to  complete  his  education. 
On  his  return,  in  1800,  he  went  to  Keswick  to  live  with 
Southey.  Here  his  opinions  underwent  a  change,  and 
from  a  Unitarian  he  became  a  Trinitarian,  and  from 
being  a  republican  he  became  a  devoted  royalist.  It 
was  here  also,  as  tlie  associate  of  Southey  and  Words- 
worth, that  he  became  known  as  one  of  the  Lake  poets. 
He,  however,  left  the  Lakes  and  went  to  live  in  London, 
leaving  liis  family  to  be  cared  for  by  Soutliey. 

His  habits,  always  more  or  less  desultory  and  irreg- 
ular, became  more  so  now  through  the  constant  use  of 
opium.  He  was  a  dreamer,  and  liad  been  slothful  from 
childliood.  He  often  made  elforts  at  liard  literary  work, 
but  as  often  his  laziness  overcame  him  and  his  plans 
failed.     For  the  last  nineteen  years  of  his  life  he  waa 


SAMUEL   TAYLOR  COLERIDGE.  191 

sheltered  by  a  friendly  surgeon,  Oilman  of  Highgate. 
Coleridge  died  in  July,  1834. 

In  addition  to  the  poems  already  mentioned,  his  Gene- 
vieve and  Hymn  before  Sunrise  in  the  Vale  of  ChawMuni  are 
the  best.  Among  his  prose  works  the  most  important 
are  Aids  to  Reflection,  Lectures  on  Shukespeare,  Lay  Sermons 
Table  Talk,  and  Biographia  Literaria. 

CRITICISM. 
Coleridge  was  a  writer  who  manifested  his  literary 
power  in  various  ways.  He  was  not  only  a  poet,  but 
also  a  great  philosopher  and  critic.  Some  of  his  poetry, 
it  is  true,  is  more  or  less  artificial,  but  much  of  it  pos- 
sv^sses  considerable  merit.  Previous  to  the  time  of  Car- 
lyle  he  was  the  chief  English  exponent  of  German 
thought  and  philosophy.  All  his  metaphysical  writings 
are  colored  with  the  speculative  philosophy  of  Kant  and 
Schelling.  Indeed,  Professor  Ferrier  charges  him  direct- 
ly with  plagiarism  from  Schelling  and  others.  As  has 
been  said,  he  was  a  dreamer,  and  rarely  carried  his 
schemes  into  execution.  For  years  he  had  planned  a 
series  of  magnificent  essays  and  grand  epics,  but  he 
never  wrote  a  line  of  either.  As  a  conversationalist  he 
had  few  equals,  and  near  the  close  of  his  life  he  wrote 
little  and  talked  more,  thus  exerting  an  immense  influ 
ence  through  his  wonderful  powers  of  conversation, 

HYMN   BEFORE  SUNRISE  IN  THE  VALE  OF 
CIIAMOUNI. 
I. 
Hast  thou  a  charm  to  stay  the  morning-star 
In  hia  steep  course  ?    So  long  he  seems  to  pause 


Analysis. — 1,  2.  moming-star,  etc.     What  figure? 

1.  Give  p;riimmatjcal  construction  of  to  stay. 

2.  Name  the  mmliders  of  to  pause. 


192  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITER ATURK 

On  thy  bald,  awfiil  head,  O  sovereign  Blano  I 

The  Arve  and  Arveiron  at  thy  base 

Rave  ceaselessly ;  but  thou,  most  awful  form,  6 

Risest  from  forth  thy  silent  sea  of  pines, 

How  silently  I     Around  thee,  and  abov<j, 

Deep  is  the  air  and  dark,  substantial,  black, 

An  ebon  mass  :  methiuks  thou  piercest  it 

As  with  a  wedge.     But  wlien  I  look  again  li 

It  is  thine  own  calm  home,  thy  crystal  shrine, 

Thy  habitation  from  eternity. 

II. 

0  dread  and  silent  Mount  1    I  gay.ed  upon  thee 
Till  thou,  still  present  to  the  bodily  sense, 

Didst  vanish  from  my  thouglit:  entranced  in  prayer  16 

1  worshiped  the  Invisible  abme. 

Yet,  like  some  sweet  beguiling  melody, — 

So  sweet  we  know  not  we  are  listening  to  it, — 

Thou,  the  mean  while  wast  blending  with  my  thought, 


Analysis. — 3.  0  sovereign  Blatic!    What  figure?    Grammatical 
construction  of  Blanc  f 

4.  Arve  and  Arveiron.    These  are  two  rivers  rising  at  the  foot  of 
Mont  Blanc, 

5.  Eave  ceaselessly.    "What  figure?    Select  another  figure  in  the 
line. 

6.  Give  grammatical  construction  of  from  forth.    Point  out  a  figure 
in  the  line. 

7-10.  Analyze  the  sentence. 

10.  Give  tiie  syntax  of  as. 

11,  12.  Name  the  noims  in  these  lines,  and  give  syntax. 
13.  Point  out  the  figures. 

11   present.     Give  the  grammatical  construction. 

bodily  sense.     Explain. 
15.  entranced.     Give  the  grammatical  construction. 

17.  Grammatical  construction  of  sweet  and  melody  f 

18.  we  know  not,  etc.     What  kind  of  element,  and  what  does  U 
motlify?     What  are  the  niodifiera  of  know  f 

19.  (live  the  syntax  of  mean  while;  also,  the  modifiers  of  wut 
blending. 


SAMUEL   TAYLOR  COLERWGR  193 

Yea,  with  my  life,  and  life's  own  secret  joy;  M 

Till  the  dilating  soul,  enrapt,  transfused, 

Into  the  mighty  vision  passing — there, 

As  in  her  natural  form,  swelled  vast  to  heaven 


Awake,  my  soul  1    Not  only  passive  praise 

Thou  owest  I  not  alone  these  swelling  tears,  SI 

Mute  thanks,  and  secret  ecstasy  I    Awake, 

Voice  of  sweet  song  I     Awake,  my  heart,  awake  I 

Green  vales  and  icy  cliffs  1  all  join  my  hymn  I 

IV. 

Thou  first  and  chief,  sole  sovereign  of  the  vale ! 

Oh,  struggling  with  the  darkness  all  the  night,  SO 

And  visited  all  night  by  troops  of  stars. 

Or  when  they  climb  the  sky,  or  when  they  sink,— 

Companion  of  the  morning-star  at  dawn. 

Thyself  earth's  rosy  star,  and  of  the  dawn 

Co-herald — wake  1  oh  wake  I  and  utter  praise  I  IS 

Who  sank  thy  sunless  pillars  deep  in  earth  7 

Who  filled  thy  countenance  with  rosy  light? 

Who  made  thee  parent  of  perpetual  streams  ? 


^ilALYSiS. — 21.  Parse  enrapt  and  transfused. 
2J.  Give  the  syntax  of  us  and  vast. 

24.  What  figure  in  tlie  line?    Dispose  of  not  only, 

25,  26.  What  are  the  objects  of  owest  f 

28.  Parse  all. 

29.  sovereign  of  the  vale.     What  figure  ? 

30    Point  out  the  figure  in  tlie  line.     Dispose  of  night. 

31.  Dispose  of  vi)<Ued. 

32.  Explain  the  figure  in  this  line. 

34.  Grammatical  construction  of  star  f 

35.  Give  tlie  meaning  of  Co-herald. 

36.  8071^.     Should  this  be  "sank"  or  "sunk"?    Name  and  ax- 
plain  the  figure  in  the  line. 

37.  Point  out  the  figure,  and  name  it. 

38.  Exphiin  the  figure.     Parse  parent. 

13 


194  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISn  LITERATURE. 

V. 

And  you,  ye  five  wild  torrents  fiercely  glad  I 
Who  called  you  forth  from  night  and  utter  death,  IS 

From  dark  and  icy  caverns  called  you  forth, 
Down  those  precipitous,  black,  jaggSd  rocks, 
For  ever  shattered,  and  the  same  for  ever? 
Who  gave  you  your  invulnerable  life. 

Your  strength,  your  speed,  your  fury,  and  your  joy  45 

Unceasing  thunder,  and  eternal  foam? 
And  who  commanded, — and  the  silence  came, — ■ 
"  Her*  let  the  billows  stifl'en  and  have  rest "  ? 

VI. 

Ye  ice-falls  I  ye  that  from  the  mountain's  brow 

Adown  enormous  ravines  slope  amain —  60 

Torrents,  methinks,  that  heard  a  mighty  voice, 

And  stopped  at  once  amid  their  maddest  plunge  I 

Motionless  torrents  I  silent  cataracts  I 

Who  made  you  glorious  as  the  gates  of  heaven 

Beneath  the  keen  full  moon?     Who  bade  the  sun  55 

Clothe  you  with  rainbows?     Who,  with  living  flowera 

Of  loveliest  blue,  spread  garlands  at  your  feet  ? 

VII. 

"  God  I"  let  the  torrents,  like  a  shout  of  nations, 

Answer  1  and  let  the  ice-plain  echo,  "God  I" 
"  God,"  sing,  ye  meadow-streams,  with  gladsome  voice  6Q 


NoTK. — 39.  five  wild  torrents. 
In  addition  to  the  rivers 
Arve    and    Arveiron,   live 


other  torrents  rush  madly 
down  the  eidee  of  Mont 
Blanc. 


Analysis. — 40.  Grammatical  construction  ol  forth t 

43.  I'arse  the  words /or  ever. 

44.  you.     (live  graruinatical  construction. 

47.  (five  the  syntax  of  cummmuUd. 

48.  let  the  bilbwa  stiffen.  E.tplain  the  figure. 
61.  Give  the  syntax  of  torrents  and  methinka. 
66.  Dispose  of  the  word  clothe. 

58.  (Jive  the  graniniatical  construction  of  the  word  Ood. 
60.  Give  the  grauimatical  constrnction  of  meadow-streams 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE.  196 

Ve  pine-groves,  with  your  soft  and  soul-like  sounds  I 
And  they,  too,  have  a  voice,  yon  piles  of  snow, 
And  in  their  perilous  fall  shall  thunder,  "  God  1" 

VIII. 

Ye  living  flowers  that  skirt  the  eternal  frost  I 

Ye  wild  goats  sporting  round  the  eagle's  nest  I  85 

Ye  eagles,  playmates  of  the  mountain-storm  1 

Ye  lightnings,  the  dread  arrows  of  the  clouds  I 

Ye  signs  and  wonders  of  the  elements ! 

Utter  forth  "  God  I"  and  fill  the  hills  with  praise  I 

IX. 

Thou,  too,  hoar  mount  I  with  thy  sky -pointing  peaks,  70 

Oft  from  whose  feet  the  avalanche,  unheard. 

Shoots  downward,  glittering  through  the  pure  serene 

Into  the  depth  of  clouds  that  veil  thy  breast, — 

Thou  too,  again,  stui)endou3  mountain  1  thou 

That,  as  I  raise  my  head,  awhile  bowed  low  75 

In  adoration,  upward  from  thy  base 

Slow  traveling,  with  dim  eyes  suffused  with  tears, 

Solemnly  seemest,  like  a  vapory  cloud 

To  rise  before  me, — rise,  oh  ever  rise ! 

Rise,  like  a  cloud  of  incense,  from  the  earth  I  80 

Thou  kingly  spirit,  throned  among  the  hills. 

Thou  dread  ambassador  from  earth  to  heaven, 

Great  Hierarch  I  tell  thou  the  silent  sky, 

And  tell  the  stars,  and  tell  yon  rising  sun, 

Earth,  with  her  thousand  voices,  praises  God.  86 


Analysis, — 62,  63.     Explain  the  figure. 

64,  skirt  the  eternal  froH.     What  figure  ? 

69.  Name  the  subject  of  utter.    Give  the  syntax  of  forth. 

70-85.  Point  out  the  figures  occurring  in  these  lines. 

71.  Name  the  modifiers  of  avalanche. 

72   shoots  downward.     Name  the  modifiers  of  shoots. 

75.  I'arse  the  word  awhile. 

77.  Justify  the  use  of  slow. 

78.  What  does  solemnly  modify?  Give  the  syntax  of  like  and  cloud, 
83-85.  Give  the  modifierB  of  tell. 


17.  THOMAS  MOORE, 

1779-1852. 

Thomas  Moore,  the  great  Irish  writer  of  lyrics  and 
the  personal  friend  of  Byron,  was  born  in  Dublin  on 
the  28th  of  May,  1779.  He  was  educated  mostly  in  the 
University  of  Dublin,  and  having  won  distinction  here 
be  went  to  London  to  study  law.  He,  however,  soon 
gave  more  attention  to.  poetry  than  to  law.  His  first 
literary  venture  was  a  translation  of  the  Odes  ofAnacreon, 
published  in  1800,  This  was  dedicated  to  the  Prince 
Regent,  and  it  secured  Moore's  immediate  introduction 
into  that  gay  and  fashionable  society  of  London  of  which 
he  was  a  frequenter  to  the  time  of  his  death. 

In  180-4  he  was  appointed  to  a  government  post  in 
the  Bermudas.  This  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  visit 
America,  but  he  left  the  work  to  be  performed  by  a 
subordinate,  who  proved  dishonest  and  caused  Moore 
to  lose  a  considerable  sum  of  public  monc}',  which  the 
poet  afterward  ])aid  by  the  product  of  his  literary  labors. 

The  works  for  which  Moore  is  chiefly  remembered  are 
his  Irish  Melodies,  about  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  in 
number,  and  his  Lalhi  Bookh,  a  brilliant  picture  of  East- 
ern life  and  tliought.  It  is  said  tliat  while  writing  this 
poem  Moore  shut  himself  U])  in  a  Derbysliire  cottage 
wiL  a  number  of  books  on  Orientalhistory  and  travel; 
and  so  faitlifully  did  he  portray  Eastern  life  that  he  was 
asked  on  one  ocx^asion  by  one  well  accpiainted  witli  Asia 
as  to  when  he  had  traveled  in  that  j)()rtion  of  tlie  world. 
Tfie  Pudge  Family  in  Paris  is  his  most  sparkling  satire. 
Many  of  liis  melodies  have  been   repeated   and  sung 


THOMAS  MOORE.  197 

wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken.  Many  of 
them,  as  The  Canadian  Boat-Song,  Those  Eveniing  Bells,  The 
Last  Rose  of  Summer,  and  Come,  ye  Disconsolate,  are  known 
to  every  lover  of  poetry  and  music. 

Many  of  Moore's  writings,  however,  are  neither  pro- 
found nor  of  a  high  moral  tone.  His  most  elaborate 
poem,  Lalla  Rnohh,  was  published  in  1817.  In  addition 
to  his  poems,  he  wrote  also  a  large  number  of  political 
Btiuibs  and  the  biographies  of  Sheridan,  Byron,  and 
Lord  Fitzgerald. 

After  having  lived  a  brilliant  and  fashionable  life  in 
London  for  half  a  century,  Moore  died  in  1852. 

CRITICISM  BY  EGBERT  CHAMBERS. 

When  time  shall  have  destroyed  the  attractive  charm 
of  Moore's  personal  qualities,  and  removed  his  works  to 
a  distance,  to  be  judged  of  by  their  fruit  alone,  the  want 
most  deeply  felt  will  be  that  of  simplicity  and  genuine 
passion.  He  has  worked  little  in  the  durable  and  per- 
manent materials  of  poetry,  but  has  spent  his  prime  in 
enriching  the  stately  structure  with  exquisite  ornaments, 
foliage,  flowers,  and  gems.  He  has  preferred  the  myrtle 
to  the  olive  or  the  oak.  His  longer  poems  want  human 
interest.  Tenderness  and  pathos  he  undoubtedly  pos- 
sesses, but  they  are  fleeting  and  evanescent — not  em- 
bodied in  his  verse  in  any  tale  of  melancholy  grandeur 
or  strain  of  affecting  morality  or  sentiment.  He  often 
throws  into  his  gay  and  festive  verses  and  riis  fanciful 
descriptions  touclics  of  pensive  and  mournful  reflection, 
which  strike  by  their  truth  and  beauty  and  by  the  force 
of  contrast. 

The  Irish  Melodies  are  full  of  true  feeling  and  delicacy. 
By  universal  consent,  and  by  the  sure  test  of  memory, 
these  national  strains  are  the  most  popular  and  the  most 


198         S7VDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

likely  to  be  immortal  of  all  Moore's  works.  They  are 
musical  almost  beyond  parallel  in  words — graceful 
in  thought  and  sentiment,  often  tender,  pathetic,  and 
heroic— and  they  blend  poetical  and  romantic  feelings 
with  the  objects  and  sympathies  of  common  life  in  lan- 
guage chastened  and  refined,  yet  apparently  so  simple 
that  every  trace  of  art  has  disappeared. 

THE  TURF  SHALL  BE  MY  FRAGRANT  SHRINE. 

The  turf  shall  be  my  fragrant  shrine; 
Mj  temple,  Lord  I  that  arch  of  Thine ; 
My  censer's  breath  the  mountain-airs, 
And  silent  thoughts  my  only  prayers. 

My  choir  shall  be  the  moonlight  waves  5 

When  murmuring  homeward  to  their  caves, 

Or  when  the  stillness  of  the  sea, 

E'en  more  than  music,  breathes  of  Thee. 

I'll  seek,  by  day,  some  glade  unknown, 

All  light  and  silence,  like  Thy  throne  I  10 

And  the  pale  stars  shall  be,  at  night, 

The  only  eyes  that  watch  my  rite. 

Thy  heaven,  on  which  'tis  bliss  to  look, 

Shall  be  my  pure  and  shining  book, 

Where  I  shall  read,  in  words  of  flame,  15 

The  glories  of  Thy  wondrous  name. 


Analysis. — 2.  Parse  Lord,  arch,  and  Thine.  What  figure  in  line  2? 
3,  4.  Name  tlie  siibjert  of  eaoli  clause. 
6.    When  murmnrtnr/,  etc.     Wliat  does  this  phrase  modify? 

8.  Give  the  syntax  of  c*^  and  more. 

9.  The  meaning  of  glade  f 

IC    All  liyht  and  silence;  that  is,  "  which  is  all  light  and  silence." 

DisjKJse  of  All,  like,  and  throne. 
11, 12.  Point  out  the  figure.    What  does  the  phrase  at  night  modify  ? 
13.  Dispose  of  the  word  loo/c. 
15.  What  are  the  modifiers  of  sluxll  rradf 


THOMAS  MOORE.  ^^^ 

I'!!  read  Thy  anger  in  the  rack 

That  clouds  a  while  the  day-beam's  track — 

Thy  mercy  in  the  azure  hue 

Of  sunny  brightness  breaking  through  1  20 

There's  nothing  bright,  above,  below, 
From  flowers  that  bloom  to  stars  that  glow, 
But  in  its  light  my  soul  can  see 
Some  feature  of  thy  Deity. 

There's  nothing  dark,  below,  above,  26 

But  in  its  gloom  I  trace  Thy  love, 
And  meekly  wait  that  moment  when 
Thy  touch  shall  turn  all  bright  again  1 

Analysis. — 17.  rack.    What  is  the  meaning? 

18.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  a  whilt. 

19.  What  is  the  syntax  of  mercy  t 

20.  Parse  breaking  and  through. 

21.  Dispose  of  There's,  bright,  above,  and  below. 

27.  Grammatical  construction  of  wait  and  moment  f 
SS   Give  construction  of  shall  turn,  all,  and  brighL 


THOSE  EVENING  BELLS. 

Those  evening  bells  I  those  evening  bells  I 
H^w  many  a  tale  their  music  tells 
Of  love  and  home,  and  that  sweet  time 
When  last  I  heard  their  soothing  chime  I 

Those  joyous  hours  are  passed  away ; 
And  many  a  heart,  that  then  was  gay, 
Within  the  tomb  now  darkly  dwells. 
And  hears  no  more  those  evening  bella. 

And  so  'twill  be  when  I  am  gone  ; 
That  tuneful  peal  will  still  ring  on, 
While  other  bards  shall  walk  these  dells, 
And  sing  your  praise,  sweet  evening  bells. 


20f'  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATVRS. 


THE  GLORY  OF  GOD  IN  CREATION. 

I. 
Thou  art,  0  God,  the  life  and  light 

Of  all  this  wondrous  world  we  see ; 
Its  glow  by  day,  its  smile  by  night, 

Are  but  reflections  caught  from  Thee. 
Where'er  we  turn.  Thy  glories  shine. 
And  all  things  fair  and  bright  are  Thine. 

II. 
'When  day,  with  farewell  beam,  delays 

Among  the  opening  clouds  of  even, 
And  we  can  almost  think  we  gaze 

Through  opening  vistas  into  heaven, 
Those  hues  that  make  the  sun's  decline 
So  soft,  so  radiant,  Lord,  are  Thine. 

III. 
When  night,  with  wings  of  starry  gloom, 

O'ershadows  all  the  earth  and  skies. 
Like  some  dark,  beauteous  bird,  whose  pluma 

Is  sparkling  with  unnumbered  eyes, 
That  sacred  gloom,  those  fires  divine. 
So  grand,  so  countless,  Lord,  are  Thine. 

IV. 

When  youthful  Spring  around  us  breather, 
Thy  spirit  warms  her  fragrant  sigh, 

And  every  flower  that  Summer  wreathes 
Is  bom  beneath  Thy  kindling  eye: 

Where'er  we  turn.  Thy  glories  sliine, 

And  all  things  fair  and  bright  are  Thineu 


18.    WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH, 

1770-1850. 

William  Wordsworth,  known  as  the  chief  of  the 
Lake  School  of  poets,  of  which  Coleridge  and  Sou  they 
also  were  prominent  members,  was  the  son  of  an  attor- 
ney. He  was  born  on  the  7th  of  April,  1770,  in  Cum- 
berland. He  and  his  associates,  who  were  noted  for  the 
simplicity  not  only  of  their  themes,  but  also  of  their 
manner  of  expression,  were  known  as  the  Lake  School 
from  their  residing  among  the  lakes  of  North-western 
England. 

Ha\dng  lost  both  fatlier  and  mother  at  a  very  early 
age,  Wordsworth's  education  was  cared  for  by  an  uncle, 
who  sent  him  to  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  in  1787. 
Here,  it  is  said,  he  read  a  great  deal,  studied  Italian, 
wrote  poetry,  and  pursued  his  work  in  what  he  con- 
sidered a  narrow  course  of  study.  His  vacations  were 
spent  mostly  in  making  tours  of  Switzerland  and 
Franca 

His  friends  were  desirous  that  he  should  become  a 
clergyman,  but  Wordsworth's  great  passion  was  for 
poetry.  His  first  venture  was  the  publication  of  two 
ehort  poems  entitled  An  Evening  Walk  and  Descriptive 
Sketches.  The  clearest  minds  at  once  recognized  his 
genius.  Coleridge,  wlio  afterward  became  his  lasting 
friend  was  particularly  impressed  with  the  merit  of 
these  poems.  But  poetry  did  not  promise  Wordsworth 
a  living,  and  he  began  to  think  of  making  either  law  or 
journalism  his  profession,  when,  fortunately  for  him  and 
the  literature  of  the  language,  a  dying  friend,  Calvert, 

201 


202  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

beqiieatlicd  him  nine  hundred  pounds,  with  the  press- 
ing request  that  he  would  devote  himself  to  poetry. 

Soon  thereafter  Wordsworth  settled  down  in  Somerset- 
Eliire  with  his  sister,  where  he  wrote  Salisbury  Plain  and 
a  tragedy.  Here  also  he  made  tlie  acquaintance  of  Cole- 
ridge, and  in  1798  they  publislied  a  volume  together 
called  Lyrical  Ballads^  the  first  part  of  which  was  Cole- 
ridge's Ancient  Mariner^  and  the  remaining  poems  those 
written  by  Wordsworth.  But  the  book  met  with  little 
Buccess. 

Wordsworth  now  made  a  tour  of  Germany,  and  on 
his  return  he  and  his  sister  removed  to  a  cottage  at 
Grasmere,  where  he  married.  A  debt  of  eight  thou- 
sand five  hundred  pounds  which  had  been  due  to  his 
fatlier  was  paid  about  this  time,  and  the  poet  was  now 
enabled  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  his  chosen  task. 
Having  removed  from  Grasmere  to  Rydal  Mount,  he 
was  appointed,  about  the  year  1815,  to  the  office  of  dis- 
tributor of  stamps,  with  a  salary  of  five  hundred  pounds 
a  year,  and  but  little  work.  In  the  following  year  he 
published  his  greatest  poem.  The  Exairsion,  which  met 
at  first  with  much  criticism,  but  which  has  proved  to  be 
one  of  the  classics  of  the  language. 

From  his  being  the  poet  of  Nature,  Wordswortli  has 
often  been  called  "  the  English  Bryant,"  as  Bryant  has 
frequently  been  styled  *'  the  American  Wordsworth." 
On  the  death  of  Southey,  in  1843,  Wordswortli  was 
made  poet-laureate.  His  chief  poem,  as  has  been  said, 
is  The  Excursion.  Among  the  most  popular  of  his 
fihorter  poems  are  The  White  Doe  of  Rylstone,  Ruth,  We 
are  Seven,  lAnes  on  Revisiting  the  Wye,  Laodamia,  and  Ode 
tn  Immortality. 

In  1842,  Wordsworth,  then  seventy-two  years  of  age 
resigned  his  public  office  to  his  son,  and  in  1850,  on  the 
23d  of  April,  he  died  at  Rydal  Mount,  and  was  buried 


WTLLIAM    WORDSWORTH.  203 

at  Grasmere  by  the  side  of  a  much -loved  daughter, 
whose  death  occurred  three  years  before. 

CRITICISM  BY  R.  H.  DANA. 

Mr.  Wordsworth  appeared  in  good  time,  with  a 
marked,  original  mind,  an  imagination  filled  with  forms 
of  beauty  and  grandeur,  and  with  a  profound  spiritual 
philosophy,  so  universally  pervasive,  so  predominant, 
and  partaking  so  much  of  system  and  form,  that  he 
ma}^  be  said  to  have  presented  poetry  under  a  new 
phasis. 

Yet  he  has  such  an  air  of  thoughtful  truth  in  his 
stories  and  characters,  and  the  sentiments  put  into  the 
mouths  of  his  people,  though  so  elevated,  have  such  a 
simplicity  of  expression,  and  so  distinct  are  his  descrip- 
tions and  so  like  to  what  we  see  around  us,  that  we  do 
not  stop  to  consider  we  are  taken  out  of  the  world  and 
daily  reality  into  the  regions  of  imagination  and  poetry. 
It  may  at  first  seem  strange  that  the  poetical  interest 
should  be  so  deep  where  there  is  so  slight  a  departure 
from  plain  experience  in  tlie  circumstances.  But  it  is 
the  silent  change  wrought  in  ourselves,  through  the 
great  depth  of  the  sentiment  and  the  utter  and  beau- 
tiful simplicity  of  the  language,  that  awakens  it 
in  us. 

Mr.  Wordsworth  stirs  up  right  thoughts  and  pure 
wishes  within  our  minds  and  hearts,  clears  our  dim 
imaginations,  and  the  poetry  of  our  being  becomes  its 
truth.  In  a  certain  sense  he  may  be  said  to  have  given 
birth  to  another  creation.  The  mountains  and  valleys, 
the  rivers  and  plains,  it  is  true,  are  the  same,  and  so  are 
the  trees  and  smaller  plants,  and  the  bright  passing 
clouds :  to  our  mere  eye  they  are  the  same  as  seen 
yesterday.  But  a  new  sense  is  opened  in  our  hearts, 
and  from   out  this  new  and  delijjhtful  reflections  are 


204  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

springing  up,  and  running  abroad  over  the  earth,  and 
twisting  themselves  about  every  little  thing  upon  it  that 
has  life,  and  uniting  its  being  with  our  being :  with  a 
higher  meaning  do  they  now  live  to  us,  for  they  have 
received  a  higher  life  from  us.  A  moral  sense  is  given 
to  things;  and  the  materials  of  earth,  which  had  hitherto 
seemed  made  only  for  homely  uses,  become  teachers  to 
our  minds  and  ministers  of  good  to  our  spirits. 

THE  KITTEN  AND  THE  FALLING  LEAVES. 
TuAT  way  look,  my  infant,  lo  I 
What  a  pretty  baby-sliow  ! 
See  the  kitten  on  the  wall, 
Sporting  with  the  leaves  that  fall — 
Withered  leaves — one,  two,  and  three —  ft 

From  the  lofty  elder  tree  I 
Through  the  calm  and  frosty  air 
Of  this  morning  bright  and  fair. 
Eddying  round  and  round  they  sink 
Softly,  slowly  ;  one  might  think,  10 

From  the  motions  that  are  made, 
Every  little  leaf  conveyed 
Sylph  or  fairy  hither  tending, — 
To  this  lower  world  descending, 
Each  invisible  and  mute,  16 

In  his  wavering  parachute. 
— But  the  kitten,  how  she  s^'arts. 
Crouches,  stretchea,  paws,  and  darta  I 


Analysis. — 2.  Name  the  modifiers  of  bdhy-nhov. 

3.  on  the  wnll.     What  does  the  phnise  motlify  ? 

5.  (live  the  syntax  of  leaveH. 

8,  Name  the  nuKlifierH  of  morning. 
10.  Name  the  object  of  think. 
14.  Give  the  syntax  of  descending. 
16.  (}ive  the  syntax  of  each. 
17    Panie  Bui  and  kitten. 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH.  205 

First  at  one,  and  then  its  fellow 

Just  as  light  and  just  as  yellow;  20 

There  are  many  now — now  one — 

Now  they  stop,  and  there  are  none; 

What  intenseness  of  desire 

In  her  upward  eye  of  fire  I 

With  a  tiger-leap,  half  way  S5 

Now  she  meets  the  coming  prey, 

Lets  it  go  as  fast,  and  then 

Has  it  in  her  power  again ; 

Now  she  works  with  three  or  four, 

Like  an  Indian  conjuror ;  80 

Quick  as  he  in  feats  of  art. 

Far  beyond  in  joy  of  heart. 

Were  her  antics  played  in  the  eye     , 

Of  a  thousand  standers-by, 

Clapping  hands  with  shout  and  stare,  86 

What  would  little  Tabby  care 

For  the  plaudits  of  the  crowd  ? 

Over-happy  to  be  proud, 

Over-wealthy  in  the  treasure 

Of  her  own  exceeding  pleasure  I  40 

'Tis  a  pretty  baby-treat ; 
Nor,  I  deem,  for  me  unmeet ; 
Here,  for  neither  babe  nor  me, 
Other  playmate  can  I  see. 


Analysis. — 19.  Parse  the  word  fellow. 

20.  Give  the  construction  of  as,  light,  and  just, 

21.  Give  the  construction  of  one. 
25    Parse  the  word  way. 

30.  Dispose  of  the  words  Like  and  eonjvror. 

31,  32.  Write  the  lines  in  prose  form,  supplying  all  elllpeM. 
33.  Give  the  construction  of  were. 

33-37.  Analyze  these  lines. 

4 1 .  Dispose  of  '  Tis. 

42.  What  is  the  meaning  of  unmedt 

43.  44.  Write  these  lines  in  proee. 


20€  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Of  the  countless  living  things,  45 

That  with  stir  of  feet  and  wing^ 

(In  the  sun  or  under  shade, 

Upon  bough  or  grassy  blade), 

And  with  busy  reveliugs, 

Chirp,  and  song,  and  niurmurings,  50 

Made  this  orchard's  narrow  space 

And  this  vale  so  blithe  a  place. 

^Multitudes  are  swept  away. 

Never  more  to  breathe  the  day ; 

Some  are  sleeping  ;  some  in  bands  56 

Traveled  into  distant  lands. 

Others  slunk  to  moor  and  wood, 

Far  from  human  neighborhood ; 

And,  among  the  kinds  that  keep 

With  us  closer  fellowship,  60 

With  us  openly  abide, 

All  have  laid  their  mirth  aside. 

— Where  is  he,  that  giddy  sprite. 

Blue-cap,  with  his  colors  bright, 

Who  was  blest  as  bird  could  be,  65 

Feeding  in  the  apple  tree  ; 

Made  such  wanton  8j)oil  and  rout, 

'J'urning  blossoms  inside  out; 

J  lung  with  head  toward  the  ground, 

Fluttered,  perched,  into  a  round  70 

Bound  himself,  and  then  unbound: 

Lithest,  gaudiest  harlequin  I 

Prettiest  tumbler  ever  seen  I 

Light  of  heart  and  light  of  limb; 

What  is  now  become  of  him?  75 


Analysis, — 46-51.  Point  out  the  prediaite  of  the  aeai«iM». 

52.  What  la  the  syntax  of  place? 

55.  Some  are  sleeping.     What  figure  here? 

62.  Name  the  figure  in  the  line. 

64.  What  is  the  syntax  of  Blue-cap  f 

68.  Parse  iriside  out. 

63-74.  Name  tJie  mmlifiers  of  sprite. 

75.  18  become.     What  ia  the  modern  form? 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH.  207 

Lambs  that  through  the  mountains  went 

Frisking,  bleating  merriment, 

When  the  year  was  in  its  prime ; 

They  are  sobered  by  this  time. 

If  you  look  to  vale  or  hill,  80 

If  you  listen,  all  is  still, 

Save  a  little  neighboring  rill, 

That  from  out  the  rocky  ground 

Strikes  a  solitary  sound. 

Vainly  glitter  hill  and  plain,  85 

And  the  air  is  calm  in  vain; 

Vainly  morning  spreads  the  lure 

Of  a  sky  serene  and  pure ; 

Creature  none  can  she  decoy 

Into  open  sign  of  joy :  ■  90 

Is  it  that  they  have  a  fear 

Of  the  dreary  sejuson  near  ? 

Or  that  other  pleasures  be 

Sweeter  e'en  than  gayety  ? 

Yet  whate'er  enjoyments  dwell  95 

In  the  impenetrable  cell 

Of  the  silent  heart  which  Nature 

Furnishes  to  every  creature  ; 

Whatsoe'er  we  feel  and  know 

Too  sedate  for  outward  show,  100 

Such  a  light  of  gladness  breaks, 

Pretty  kitten  I  from  thy  freaks, — 


Ana.1  /sis. — 76-79.  Lambs  ....  They  are  sobered,  etc    CriticlM. 
Would  inis  form  be  allowable  in  prose? 

82.  Give  the  construction  of  save, 

83.  Dispose  of  the  expression  from  out. 
89   Parse  the  word  Twiie. 

91.  Give  the  construction  of  thai. 

93.  Why  be  in  this  line  ? 

94,  Dispose  of  e'en. 

99.  Give  the  construction  of  whatsot^er. 
100.  Parse  the  word  sedate. 


208  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Spreads  with  such  a  living  grace 

O'er  my  little  Laura's  face ; 

Yes,  the  sight  so  stirs  and  charma  106 

Thee,  baby,  laughing  in  my  arms, 

That  almost  I  could  repine 

That  your  transports  are  not  mine, 

That  I  do  not  wholly  fare 

E'en  as  ye  do,  thoughtless  pair  I  1  0 

And  1  will  have  my  careless  season 

Spite  of  melancholy  reason — 

Will  walk  through  life  in  such  a  waj 

That,  when  time  brings  on  decay, 

Kow  and  then  I  may  possess  116 

Hours  of  perfect  gladsomenesa. 

— Pleased  by  any  random  toy  ; 

By  a  kitten's  busy  joy, 

Or  an  infant's  laughing  eye 

Sharing  in  the  ecstasy ;  120 

I  would  fare  like  that  or  this, 

Find  my  wisdom  in  my  bliss; 

Keep  the  sprightly  soul  awake, 

And  have  faculties  to  take. 

E'en  from  things  by  sorrow  wrought,  126 

Matter  for  a  jocund  thought. 

Spite  of  care,  and  spite  of  grief, 

To  gambol  with  Life's  falling  Leaf. 


Analysis. — 107.  What  does  the  line  modify? 
108.  Parse  mine,  and  show  what  the  line  mollifies. 
110.  DiKpf)se  of  E^en  and  as. 

To  what  does  pair  here  refer? 
115.  Parse  the  words  Now  and  then. 

117.  Give  construction  of  Pleased.     What  are  the  modifien  ot 
PUaaedt 
121.  Dispose  of  lil-e  that. 
123.  Dispose  of  Keep  and  awnke. 
124-126.  What  aro  the  modifiers  of  takef 
127.  Dispose  of  Spite  and  gpiie. 
128   Give  the  syntax  of  To  gambol.    Wliat  figure  in  the  line? 


coni:emporaneous  writers.  209 

contemporaneous  writees. 

1.  POETS. 

Rev.  George  Crabbe  (1754-1832).— Called  by  Byron  "  Na- 
ture's  sternest  painter,  yet  the  best."  Encouraged  in  his  early 
efforts  by  Burke,  by  whose  advice  he  became  a  clergyman.  He 
was  a  gra[)hic,  matter-of-fact  poet.  Author  of  The  Library,  The 
Village.,  The  Parish  Begister,  etc. 

Samuel  Rogers  (17G3-1855). — A  poet  and  banker.  Always 
a  warm  and  benevolent  friend  to  struggling  merit.  Author  of 
The  Pleasures  of  Memory,  Columbus,  Italy,  etc. 

James  Hogg  (1770-1835).— Known  as  "the  Ettrick  Shep- 
herd." A  Scotch  poet  of  romantic  and  legendary  character. 
Author  of  Queen's  Wake,  The  Pilgrims  of  the  Sun,  and  some 
novels. 

James  Montgomery  (1771-1854).  —  A  journalist  and  poet. 
Be  rn  in  Ayrehire,  Scotland.  Author  of  Oreenland,  The  Pelican 
Island,  The  World  before  the  Flood,  and  many  other  poems.  AVas 
for  many  years  editor  of  the  Sheffield  Iris. 

Thomas  Campbell  (1777-1844). — Distinguished  both  as  a  poet 
and  as  a  prose-writer.  Editor  of  the  Neiv  Monthly  Magazine  for 
ten  years.  Author  of  Pleasures  of  Hope,  Gertrude  of  Wyoming, 
Hohenlinden,  Lord  Ulliri's  Daughter,  Ye  3fariners  of  England, 
Lochiel's  Warning,  etc. 

Felicia  Hemans  (1793-1835). — Felicia  Browne  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  merchant.  Married  Captain  Hemans.  Began  her  lit- 
erary career  at  fifteen.  Author  of  The  Forest  Sanctuary  and 
many  shorter  poems,  as  The  Graves  of  a  Household,  Ca^ibianca, 
The  Voice  of  Spring,  Landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  etc.  Author  of  a 
tragedy  also,  The  Vespers  of  Palermo. 

Reginald  Heber  (1783-1826). — Known  also  as  Bishop  Heber. 
Educated  at  Oxford.  Was  bishop  of  Calcutta.  Author  of 
Fro\^  Oreenlaid's  Icy  Mountains  and  many  other  beautiful 
hymns. 

Henry  Klrke  White  (1785-1806).— The  son  of  a  butcher.  His 
chief  poem  is  called  Clifton.  Died  from  over-work  at  the  age 
of  twenty-one. 

Percy  Bysshe   Shelley  (1792-1822).— A  brilliant  lyric  poet. 
Wa-s  a  bardlet's  sou.     Wrote  two  novels  while  yet  a  schoolboy. 
14 


210         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Was  expelled  from  Oxford  for  athei.sm.  Author  of  Queen  Mah^ 
Alador,  Prometheus  Unbound,  TTie  Cenci,  Tlie  Skylark,  The  Cloud, 
T%e  Senmtive  Plant,  etc.  Was  drowned  in  the  Bay  of  Spezzia, 
Italy. 

John  Keats  (1795-1821). — A  highly  imaginative  poet.  Died 
at  the  age  of  twenty-four.  His  chief  poems  are  Endymion, 
Hiiperion,  The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn,  Ode  to  a 
N'Kjhtingale. 

Bryan  Waller  Procter  (1790-1874). — Known  also  as  "Barry 
Cornwall."  Educated  at  Harrow.  A  schoolfellow  of  Byron. 
Became  a  barrister-at-law.  Was  both  a  lyric  and  a  dramatic 
poet.  Author  of  A  Sicilian  Story,  ITie  Flood  of  Tlicssaly,  Miran- 
dala,  etc. 

Robert  Pollok  (1799-1827).— Was  a  theological  student.  Au- 
thor of  The  Course  of  Time,  once  a  very  popular  sacred  epic. 

Thomas  Hood  (1798-1845). — The  son  of  a  London  bookseller. 
A  great  wit  and  humorist.  His  best  poems  are  Eugene  Aram's 
Dream,  The  Song  of  a  Shirt,  The  Bridge  of  Sighs,  Plea  of  the 
Midsummer  Fairies. 

2.  DRAMATISTS.. 

Joanna  Baillie  (1762-1851) — A  writer  of  many  dramas,  also  of 
Scottish  songs.  The  only  one  of  her  many  plays  which  was  put 
on  the  stage  is  De  Montfort. 

James  Sheridan  Knowles  (1784r-1862). — A  distinguished  dram- 
atist. The  son  of  an  English  teacher  of  elocution.  Wrote 
plays  when  but  twelve  years  old.  Was  also  an  actor.  Became 
a  teacher  of  elocution  and  grammar.  Ilis  chief  dramas  are 
Virginius,  William  Tell,  The  Hunchback,  The  Wife,  77ie  Beggar 
of  Bethnal  Green,  etc. 

3.  PROSE-WRITERS. 
1,  Jlistorinns  : 

John  Lingard  (1771-1851). — Author  of  History  of  England. 
Was  a  Roman  Catholic  priest.  Author  also  of  The  Antiquities 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  Church. 

Henry  Hallam  (1778-1859).— Educated  at  Eton  and  Oxford. 
One  of  the  most  correct  of  historians.  Author  of  View  of  Eu- 
rope during  the  Middle  Ages,  The  Constitutional  History  of  Eng- 
land, and  Ari  Introduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  211 

2.  Novelists: 

Frances  Burney,  Countess  d'Arblay  (1752-1340). — Daugh- 
ter of  Dr.  Buruey.  Her  best  novel  is  Evalina.  Wrote  also 
Cecilia.     Married  Count  d'Arblay,  a  French  refugee. 

Maria  Edgeworth  (1767-1849). — Was  taught  chiefly  by  her 
father,  who  was  the  author  of  several  works  on  education  and 
engineering.  Her  chief  works  are  Castle  Rachrent,  Belinda, 
Popular  Tales,  Tales  of  a  Fashionable  Life,  and  The  Parent's  As- 
tistant. 

John  Gait  (1779-1839).— A  Scotch  novelist.  Was  a  student 
of  law,  a  writer  for  the  stage,  a  merchant,  and,  lastly,  a  novelist. 
Wrote  Ayrshire  Legatees,  The  Annals  of  a  Parish,  The  Last  of  the 
Lairds,  etc. 

Jane  Austen  (1775-1817). — A  clergyman's  daughter.  Wrote 
Pride  and  Prejudice,  Mansfield  Park,  Sense  and  Sensibility,  etc. 

Frances  Trollope  (1778-1863).— The  daughter  of  an  English 
clergyman.  Began  her  career  as  a  writer  in  1832  with  a  satire 
entitled  The  Domestic  Manners  of  the  Americans.  Wrote  The 
Vicar  of  Wrexhall,  The  Widow  Barnaby,  The  Ward  of  Thorpe 
Combe,  etc. 

Mary  Russell  Mitford  (1786-1855).— Daughter  of  Dr.  Mitford, 
whom  she  supported  in  later  life  by  the  earnings  of  her  pen. 
Author  of  Our  Village,  Belford  Regis,  Stories  of  American  Life,  etc. 

Frederick  Marryat  (1792-1848).— A  captain  in  the  Royal 
Navy.  His  best  novels  are  pictures  of  English  sailor-life. 
Author  of  Peter  Simple,  Jacob  Faithful,  Midshipman  Easy,  New- 
ton Forster,  etc. 

Mrs.  Amelia  Opie  (1769-1853).— Wife  of  the  painter  Opie. 
Author  of  a  number  of  novels  of  a  domestic  character.  Wrote 
Father  and  Daughter,  Tales  of  the  Heart,  Temper,  etc. 

8.  EA'.ayists  and  Critics  : 

William  Cobbett  (1762-1835).- At  first  a  field-laborer,  then  a 
Boldier.  Became  a  member  of  Parliament.  His  chief  works 
are  Rural  Rides,  Cottage  Economy,  and  some  works  on  America. 

William  Hazlitt  (1778-1830).— Originally  a  painter,  but  chose 
literature  as  his  profession.  Was  a  critic  of  great  brilliancy 
and  refinement.  Wrote  Life  of  Napoleon,  Characters  of  Shale- 
tpeare's  Plays,  Table  Talk,  Lectures  on  the  English  Poets. 


2] 2         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Sir  James  Mackintosh  (1765-1832). — An  historian,  a  critic,  and 

a  statesman.  A  brilliant  writer  of  essays  on  politicul  and  his- 
torical subjects.    Much  of  his  writing  was  done  for  cyclojta^dias. 

Sydney  Smith  (1771-1845). — A  brilliant  wit.  Was  a  tutor  in 
Edinburgh,  then  a  London  preacher,  then  a  rector  in  Yorkshire, 
end  lastly  a  canon  of  St.  Paul's.  The  first  editor  and  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  Edinburgh  Revieiv,  of  which  he  wrote  the  chief 
literary  criticisms.  Became  afterward  a  Scottish  judge,  and  re- 
mained on  the  bench  almost  to  the  time  of  his  death. 

Robert  Southey  (1774-1843). — A  laborious  and  industrious 
writer  of  both  prose  and  poetry.  Was  known  as  one  of  the 
Lake  School  of  poets.  Became  poet-laureate  in  1813.  His 
b«st  prose  works  are  Lije  of  Nelson,  A  History  of  Brazil,  Life 
of  Cowper,  Life  of  Chatterton,  Life  of  Wesley,  Life  of  H.  Kirke 
WJiite.     His  best  poem  is  The  Curse  of  Kehama. 

Prof.  John  Wilson  (1785-1854).— Educated  at  Oxford.  Be- 
came Professor  of  j\Ioral  Philosophy  at  Edinburgh.  Was  both 
a  poet  and  an  essayist.  Known  as  "Christopher  North"  in 
Blackwood's  Magazi)ie.  Author  of  Nodes  Ambrosiance  and  LighU 
atid  /Shadows  of  Scottish  Life. 

Thomas  de  Quincey  (1785-1859). — Educated  at  Eton  and  Ox- 
ford. A  very  eloquent  writer.  Author  of  The  Confessions  of  an 
Opium-Eater,  Suspira  de  Profundis,  and  many  valuable  essays. 

Charles  Lamb  (1775-1834). — A  schoolfellow  of  Coleridge. 
Wrote  a  number  of  graceful  essays  for  the  London  Magazine 
entitled  Essays  by  Elia,  on  which  his  chief  fame  rests. 

J.  G.  Lockhart  (1794-1854).— Son-in-law  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
For  a  time  editor  of  the  London  C^uarterly  Review.  Wrote  Life 
of  Scott. 

Walter  Savage  Landor  (1775-1864). — A  writer  of  both  prose 
and  poetry.  Author  of  Imaginary  Conversations  and  a  number 
of  poems. 

Leigh  Hunt  (1784-1859). — Wrote  both  prose  and  poetry.  His 
style  w!is  both  pictureaque  and  graceful.  His  ciiief  poems  are 
The  Story  of  Rimini,  Tlie  Palfrey,  and  A  Legend  of  Florence.  Hia 
prose  consists  of  essays,  sketches,  and  memoirs. 

Isaac  Disraeli  (1766-1848). — Author  of  The  Curiosities  of  Lit- 
erature, The  Amenities  of  Literature,  Calamities  and  Quarrels  of 
Authors,  and  other  works  of  a  similar  character. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITER^.  213 

Home  Tooke  (1736-1812). — Son  of  a  London  poulterer.  Was 
tried  for  high  treason  in  1794.  Author  of  Epea  Pleroenta;  or, 
The  Diversions  of  Purley. 

Lord  Brougham  (1779-1868). — A  great  scholar,  statesman, 
orator,  and  writer.  Author  of  Observations  on  Light,  Statesmen 
of  the  Reign  of  Qeorge  III.,  Englatid  under  the  Mouse  of  Lan- 
caster, etc. 

4.  Scientific  Writers: 

Jeremy  Bentham  (1748-1832). — A  prominent  writer  on  politi- 
cal science.  The  son  of  a  London  solicitor.  Spent  most  of  his 
life  in  writing  on  law  and  politics. 

Dugald  Stewart  (1753-1828).— Born  in  Edinburgh.  Became 
Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh. 
Author  of  The  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  A  View  of  the 
Active  and  Moral  Powers  of  Man,  and  Outlines  of  Moral  Phil- 
osophy. 

Sir  Humphry  Davy  (1778-1829). — Was  a  distinguished  chemist. 
Inventor  of  tlie  safety-lamp.  AVrote  many  articles  for  the  Royal 
Society.  Author  also  of  Salmonia;  or,  Days  of  Fly-Fishing, 
Consolations  in    Travel,  etc. 

Sir  John  Herschel  (1792-1871). — An  eminent  scientific  man. 
Educated  at  Cambridge.  Author  of  A  Treatise  on  Sound,  Dis- 
course on  Natural  Philosophy,  Outlines  of  Astronomy, 

5.  Tlieologian^ : 

Adam  Clarke  (1760-1832.) — A  renowned  Oriental  scholar  and 
biblical  critic  and  commentator.  His  chief  works  are  A  Com- 
mentary on  the  Bible  and  a  Bibliographical  Dictionary. 

Robert  Hall  (1764-1831). — A  distinguished  Baptist  preacher. 
His  chief  literary  works  are  An  Apology  for  the  Freedom  of  the 
Press  and  a  Sermon  on  Moikrn  Infidelity. 

Dr.  Thomas  Chalmers  (1780-1847).— The  ablest  and  most 
distinguished  Scottish  divine  of  his  period.  Became  Professor 
of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the  United  College,  and  then  Professor 
of  Divinity  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  Author  o^  Nat- 
tiral  Theology,  Evidences  of  Christianity,  Moral  Philosophy,  Astro- 
nomical LHscourses,  etc. 


VIII. 

THE    vrjOTORIAI^   AGE. 

1830  to  the  Present  Time. 

Reigns  of  William  IV.  akd  Queen  Victoria. 

No  era  in  the  history  of  the  English  nation  has  been 
more  prolific  of  great  writers  in  nearly  all  departments 
of  literature  than  has  this.  With  the  opening  of  the 
Victorian  Age  there  was  a  general  change  in  the  modes 
of  thought  and  a  general  forward  movement  in  favor  of 
education,  not  only  in  England,  but  also  in  the  United 
States.  No  epoch  in  history  shows  greater  enlighten- 
ment. The  first  public  grant  in  favor  of  education  in 
England  was  made  in  1833,  and  since  that  time  these 
grants  have  been  regularly  made,  and  the  intelligence 
of  the  English  people  has  been  greatly  advanced.  The 
number  of  readers  has  also  correspondingly  increased, 
and  with  them  the  number  of  thinkers  and  autliors. 
The  character  of  the  literature  has  also  in  a  measure 
changed,  and  has  become  more  reflective  and  scientific 
than  that  of  the  preceding  or  poetic  age. 

The  chief  poets  of  the  age  are  Tennyson,  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing, and  Miss  Ingelow.  Among  the  cliief  prose-writers 
are  the  historians  Macaulay  and  Froude,  the  novelists 
Thackeray,  Dickens,  and  George  Eliot,  and  the  essayist 
Carlyle. 


314 


19.  ALFRED   TENNYSON, 

Born  1810-1892. 

Alfred  Tennyson,  who  became  poet-laureate  on  the 
death  of  Wordsworth  in  1850,  is  the  great  rei)resent- 
ative  EngHsh  poet  of  the  Victorian  Age. 

Tennyson  was  the  son  of  a  Lincolnshire  clerg3'raan. 
He  was  born  in  the  year  1810.  Three  brothers — Fred- 
erick, Charles,  and  Alfred — all  were  poets,  but  the 
youngest  of  tlie  three,  Alfred,  was  the  only  one  destined 
to  become  famous  as  the  representative  literary  man 
of  his  age.  The  first  effort  that  brought  him  to  the 
notice  of  the  public  was  a  poem  with  which  he  won  the 
Chancellor's  Medal  in  1829,  while  yet  an  undergraduate 
at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  his  theme  being  Tim- 
buctoo.  A  year  later  a  Cornhill  publisher  announced 
Tennyson's  first  volume,  entitled  Poems,  chiefly  Lyrical, 
by  Alfred  Tennyscm,  in  which  ap]iearcd  such  gems  as 
"  Claribel  "  and  "  Mariana  in  the  Moated  Grange."  But 
the  reception  with  which  the  volume  met  was  not  en- 
couraging. Nothing  daunted,  tlie  poet  again  came  be- 
fore the  public  in  1833,  when,  in  addition  to  some  of 
his  former  poems,  he  i)resented  such  favorites  as  "  The 
Miller's  Daughter,"  "  Tiie  Lotus-Eaters,"  and  The 
Queen  of  the  May."  But  again  the  critics  were  severe 
and  unkind,  and  during  the  next  nine  years  the  poet 
seemed  to  preserve  silence.  In  1842,  however,  he  issued 
two  new  volumes  of  poems,  in  which  were  such  admir- 
able productions  as  "  Locksley  Hall,"  "  The  Gardener's 
Daughter,"  "  Lady  Clara  Vere  de  Vere,"  and  "  Godiva." 
In   1847,  Tennyson  published  an  epic  poem  in  blank 

215 


216  STUDIES  IN  EXGLISH  LITERATURE. 

verse  entitled  The  Princess:  a  Medley,  which  has  been 
chiiracterized  by  critics  as  graceful  and  exquisite. 

In  1850  the  poet  presented  a  new  volume  to  the  pub- 
lic, entitled  In  Memoriam,  a  collection  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty-nine  poems ;  and  in  1855  another  volume, 
entitled  Maud,  and  Other  Poerms. 

In  1858,  Tennyson  published  one  of  his  best  and 
most  extended  i)oenis,  entitled  Idyls  of  the  King,  which 
celebrates  the  adventures  of  the  mythical  King  Arthur 
and  the  Knights  of  the  Round  Table.  To  this  volume 
was  added  another  of  a  similar  character  in  1869,  en- 
titled The  Holy  Grail;  and  in  18G4,  between  tlie  times 
of  publisliing  the  two  poems  here  mentioned,  he  issued 
a  volume  entitled  Enoch  Arden,  and  Other  Poems. 

Tennyson's  best  poems  are  "  Locksley  Hall,"  In  Me- 
inoriam,  The  Princess,  and  Idyls  of  the  King.  At  the 
present  time  the  poet,  who  is  a  man  of  studious  and 
industrious  habits,  is  still  living  at  Petersfield,  Hamp- 
Bhire,  England. 

CRITICISM  BY  TAIXE. 
Tennyson  is  a  born  poet;  that  is,  a  builder  of  airy 
palaces  and  imaginary  castles.  But  the  individual 
passion  and  absorbing  preoccupations  which  generally 
guide  the  hands  of  such  men  are  wanting  to  hira :  he 
found  in  himself  no  plan  of  a  new  edifice ;  he  has  built 
after  all  the  rest;  he  has  simply  chosen  amongst  all 
forms  the  most  elegant,  ornate,  exquisite.  Of  their 
beauties  he  has  taken  but  the  flower.  At  most,  now 
and  then,  he  has  here  and  there  amused  himself  by 
designing  some  genuinely  English  and  modern  cottage. 
If  in  this  choice  of  architecture,  adopted  or  restored,  we 
look  for  a  trace  of  liim,  we  siiall  find  it,  here  and  tliere, 
in  some  more  finely  sculptured  frieze,  in  some  more 
dplirate  and  graceful  sculptured  rosework ;  but  we  oidy 


ALFRED   TENNYSON.  217 

find  it  marked  and  sensible  in  the  purity  and  elevation 
of  the  moral  emotion  which  we  carry  away  with  us 
when  we  quit  his  gallery  of  art. 

CHARGE  OF  THE  LIGHT  BRIGADE. 
Note. — Tliis  poem  is  by  many  regardeti  as  Tennyson's  most  fa- 
noons  prodnction.     It  has  for  its  basis  the  heroic  action  of  a  brigade 
in  the  battle  of  Balaklava.     As  a  lyric  it  is  unsurpassed  in  any  lan- 
guage. 

I. 
Half  a  league,  half  a  league, 
Half  a  league  onward, 
All  in  the  valley  of  death 
Rode  the  Six  Hundred. 
"  Forward,  the  Light  Brigade !  4 

Charge  for  the  guns !"  he  said; 
Into  the  valley  of  death 
Rode  the  Six  Hundred. 

II. 
"  Forward,  the  Light  Brigade  I" 
Was  there  a  man  dismayed  ?  10 

Not  though  the  soldier  knew 

Some  one  had  blundered : 
Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why, 

Tlieira  but  to  do  and  die ;  II 

Into  the  valley  of  death 

Rode  the  Six  Hundred. 


Analysis. — 1-4.  Is  the  sentence  periodic  or  loose? 
L  Parse  half. 

2.  Parse  onward. 

3.  Name  the  Ijgure  in  this  line. 

5.  Supply  the  ellipsis. 

6.  Name  the  object  of  said. 

8.  Who  were  tlie  9/x  Ilumlredf 
11.  What  figure  in  tlie  Hue? 

11,  12.  Supply  tlie  ellipsis. 

12.  Name  the  object  of  knew 
13-15.   Rewrite  ib^e  clauses. 


218  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

III. 
Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Caunou  to  left  of  them, 
Cannon  in  front  of  them,  90 

Volleyed  and  thundered ; 
Stormed  at  with  shot  and  shell, 
Boldly  they  rode  and  well ; 
Into  the  jaws  of  Death, 
Into  the  mouth  of  Hell  86 

Hode  the  Six  Hundred. 

IV. 

Flashed  all  their  sabres  bare, 

Flashed  as  they  turned  in  air, 

Sabring  the  gunners  there. 

Charging  an  army,  while  80 

All  the  world  wondered  : 
Plunged  in  the  battery-smoke. 
Right  through  the  line  they  broke; 
Cossack  and  Russian 
Reeled  from  the  sabre-stroke,  86 

Shattered  and  sundered : 
Then  they  rode  back — but  not, 

Not  the  Six  Hundred. 


,%jTALYSis. — 21 .  Name  the  subjects  of  volleyed  and  thundered. 

22.  Stormed  at,  etc.     What  does  the  phrase  modify  ?     What  figure 
in  the  line? 

23.  Name  mo<lifierH  of  rode. 

24.  jaws  of  Death.     What  fiijure? 

25.  Point  out  the  figure  in  tliis  line. 

26.  Name  the  modiliers  of  Rode. 

27.  What  is  tlie  meaning  of  sabre  f     What  figure  in  the  line? 

28.  What  Ls  tlie  antecedent  of  theyt 

29.  30.  SubriiKj,  etc. ;  Charging,  etc.    What  do  these  phraaes  modify  f 

30.  31.  while,  etc.     What  does  the  clause  modify  ? 
81.  Point  out  the  fixure. 

83    Parse  Rii/ht.     Name  tlie  iintpceilent  of  theij. 

86    Shnltered  and  mmlered.     What  do  these  worda  modify? 

88.    Not  Ike  Six  Hundred.     lOxi-hiin. 


ALFRED  TENNYSON.  219 

V. 

Cannon  to  right  of  them, 

Cannon  to  left  of  them,  4A 

Cannon  behind  them, 

Volleyed  and  thundered; 
Btormed  at  with  shot  and  shell. 
While  horse  and  hero  fell, 

They  that  had  fought  so  well  45 

Came  through  the  jaws  of  Death, 
Back  from  the  mouth  of  Hell, 
All  that  was  left  of  them. 

Left  of  Six  Hundred. 

VI. 

When  can  their  glory  fade  ?  50 

Oh,  the  wild  charge  they  made  1 

All  the  world  wondered  I 
Honor  the  charge  they  made, 
Honor  the  Light  Brigade, 

Noble  Six  Hundred  1  55 


Analysis. — 43.  Stormed  at,  etc.    What  does  the  phrase  modify? 

44.  horse  and  hero.     Explain. 

45.  Parse  the  adverbs  in  the  line. 

46.  Point  out  the  figure. 

47.  Name  the  fijj;ure  in  this  line. 

48.  With  what  is  All  in  apposition  ?    Why  is  that  preferable  to 
¥iho  or  which  in  this  line? 

49.  Parse  the  word  Hundred. 

50.  Wliat  figure  in  the  line? 
51    Point  out  the  figure. 

62    What  figure  in  this  line? 

53    Dispose  of  the  word  Honor.    Supply  the  ellipsis  in  this  line. 
64    Supply  tlie  ellipsis  in  this  line. 

65.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  Noble  Six  Hundred. 
Give  the  prosody  of  this  poem.     Mention  other  poems  written  by 
Tennyson  in  the  capacity  of  poet- laureate. 
Give  the  etymology  of  the  word  poel-laweate. 
On  what  does  the  apiwintment  to  the  laureateship  depend  ? 


220  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  HEAVY  BRIGADE. 

[jPor  Miidy  and  analysi.t.'] 

Note. — The  charge  of  the  Three  Hundred  of  the  Heavy  Brigade, 
ander  Major-General  Sir  Jaiues  Y.  Scarlett,  was  as  brilliant  and  heart- 
stirring  a  dash  as  that  of  the  Light  Brigade,  and  more  fortunate. 
Moving  along  the  valley  witli  some  seven  hundred  troopers,  well 
within  the  British  lines,  as  he  supposed,  he  was  astonished  to  see  a 
body  of  three  thousand  Russian  horse  emerge  along  the  top  of  the 
ridge  half  a  mile  away.  Immediately  they  bore  down  on  his  squad- 
rons, which  were  without  support,  and  which,  indeed,  were  so  di- 
vided that  less  than  three  hundred  of  the  Inniskillings  and  Scots 
Greys  were  immediately  at  hand.  The  Russians  drew  up  to  within 
a  few  hundred  yards,  and  for  some  unaccountable  reiison  halted,  when 
General  Scarlett  ordered  his  men  to  attack,  and  himself  rude  forward 
at  full  pace  against  the  Russian  centre.  In  the  movement  forward 
he  got  fifty  yards  in  advance  of  his  men,  who  were  slightly  delayea 
in  their  charge  up  the  hill  by  the  ropes  of  some  tents  not  yet  (piite 
struck.  Mounted  on  jjowerful  horses,  he  and  his  three  attendants — 
Elliott,  his  aide-de-camp,  a  trumpeter,  and  the  gigantic  orderly  She- 
gog — broke  through  the  Russian  lin&s,  and  his  three  hundred,  fol- 
lowing immediately  after,  did  the  same.  It  was  impossible  by  mere 
impact  to  beat  backward  up  the  iiill  a  force  ten  times  as  large  as  tlieir 
own;  and  so  they  fought  their  way  through  it,  jammed  in  the  mel^e 
of  men  and  horses,  saved  by  their  suiierior  height  and  reach  of  arm, 
smiting  with  one  hand  and  with  the  other  dragging  the  ridera  from 
their  seata.  Then  they  found  the  enemy  faced  about  to  their  rear, 
and  again  they  fought  their  way  through,  back  to  where  they  started. 
Meanwhile,  the  wings  of  the  Russians,  which  had  been  extended  to 
right  and  left,  and  had  l»een  closed  to  embrace  tlie  fated  British  as  in 
the  liug  of  a  bear,  were  now  smitten  by  the  remainder  of  the  Heavy 
Brigade,  which  had  been  hurried  along  to  aid  their  engaged  com- 
rades. Their  onset,  added  to  the  confusion  alreruly  caused,  threw 
the  Rns.sians  into  utter  disorder,  and  they  hurried  confusedly  up  and 
over  the  hill,  leaving  the  field  in  the  hands  of  the  British. — .^eii 
Y9rk  IidepeiulerU. 


ALFRED   TENNYSON.  221 

I. 

The  charge  of  the  gallant  Three  Hundred,  the  Heavy  Brigade  I 
Down  the  hill,  down  the  hill,  thousands  of  Russians, 
Thousands  of  horsemen,  drew  to  the  valley — and  stayed. 
For  Scarlett  and  Scarlett's  Three  Hundred  were  riding  by 
When  the  points  of  the  Russian  lances  broke  in  on  the  sky ;    5 
And  he  called^  "  Left  wheel  into  line  I"  and  they  wheeled  and 

obeyed. 
Then  he  looked  at  the  host  that  had  halted,  he  knew  not  why, 
And  he  turned  half  round,  and  he  bade  his  trumpeter  sound 
To  the  charge!"  and  he  rode  on  ahead,  as  he  waved  his  blade 
To  the  gallant  Three  Hundred,  whose  glory  will  never  die:     10 
Follow,  and  up  the  hill  I" 
Up  the  hill,  up  the  hill,  followed  the  Heavy  Brigade. 

II. 

The  trumpet,  the  gallop,  the  charge,  and  the  might  of  the 

fight  I 
Down  the  hill  slowly  thousands  of  Russians 
Drew  to  the  valley  and  halted  at  last  on  the  height,  15 

With  a  wing  pushed  out  to  the  left,  and  a  wing  to  the  right. 
But  Scarlett  was  far  on  ahead,  and  he  dashed  up  alone 
Through  the  great  gray  slope  of  men ; 
And  he  whirled  his  sabre;  he  held  his  own 
Like  an  Englishman  there  and  then ;  20 

And  the  three  that  were  nearest  him  followed  with  force. 
Wedged  themselves  in  between  horse  and  horse, 
Fought  for  their  lives  in  the  narrow  gap  they  had  made. 
Four  amid  thousands;  and  up  the  hill,  up  the  hill, 
Galloped  the  gallant  Three  Hundred,  the  Heavy  Brigade.        28 

III. 

Fell  like  a  cannot-shot, 

Burst  like  a  thunderbolt, 

Crashed  like  a  hurricane. 

Broke  through  the  mass  from  below, 

Drove  through  the  midst  of  the  foe,  90 

Plunged  up  and  down,  to  and  fro, 

Rode,  flashing  blow  upon  bJow, 


222  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Brave  Inniskillings  and  Greys, 

Whirling  their  sabres  in  circles  of  light. 

And  some  of  us,  all  in  a  maze,  36 

Who  were  held  for  a  while  from  the  fight, 

And  were  only  standing  at  gaze 

When  the  dark-muffled  Russian  crowd 

Folded  its  wings  from  the  left  and  the  right, 

And  rolled  them  around  like  a  cloud —  40 

Oh  I  mad  for  the  charge  and  the  battle  were  we, 

When  our  own  good  red-coats  sank  from  sight. 

Like  drops  of  blood  in  a  dark  gray  sea ; 

And  we  turned  to  each  other,  muttering,  all  dismayed, 

Lost  are  the  gallant  Three  Hundred,  the  Heavy  Brigade  I"      46 

IV. 

But  they  rode  like  victors  and  lords 

Through  the  forests  of  lances  and  swords; 

In  the  heart  of  the  Russian  hordes, 

They  rode,  or  they  stood  at  bay ; 

Struck  with  the  sword-hand  and  slew ;  60 

Down  with  the  bridle-hand  drew 

The  foe  from  the  saddle,  and  threw 

Under  foot  there  in  the  fray ; 

Raged  like  a  storm,  or  stood  like  a  rock 

In  the  wave  of  a  stormy  day ;  66 

Till  suddenly,  shock  upon  shock, 

Staggered  the  mass  from  without ; 

For  our  men  galloped  up  with  a  cheer  and  a  shout, 

And  the  Russians  surged  and  wavered  and  reeled 

Up  the  hill,  up  the  hill,  up  the  hill,  out  of  the  field,  60 

Over  the  brow  and  away. 

V. 

Glory  to  each  and  to  all,  and  the  charge  that  they  made. 
G.Dry  to  all  the  Three  Hundred,  the  Heavy  Brigade  1 


20.  MRS.  ELIZABETH  (BARRETT)  BROWNING, 

1809-1861. 

Mrs.  Browning,  formerly  Miss  Barrett,  was  born  in 
Hertfordshire,  England,  in  1809.  It  is  said  that  she 
began  to  compose  verses  as  early  as  the  age  of  ten, 
and,  receiving  encouragement  from  her  friends,  she 
issued  a  volume  entitled  An  Essay  on  Mind,  and  Other 
Poems,  when  but  seventeen  years  of  age.  lier  first  suc- 
cessful poem,  however,  which  appeared  in  1833,  was 
her  translation  of  Prometheus  Bound,  from  the  Greek 
dramatist  -^schylus.  From  1838  to  18-14  she  pub- 
lished a  number  of  poems,  and  in  the  latter  year  her 
writings  were  collected  and  published  in  two  volumes. 
About  the  year  1840  the  bursting  of  a  blood-vessel  con- 
fined her  to  her  room  for  a  twelvemonth,  and  her  tailing 
health  compelled  her  to  seek  a  milder  climate.  She 
accordingly  went  to  Torquay.  In  1846  she  married 
Robert  Browning,  himself  a  poet  of  great  merit,  and 
they  made  Florence  their  permanent  home.  Mrs. 
Browning  soon  found  herself  sympathizing  deej^ly  with 
the  cause  of  the  suffering  Italians,  and,  witnessing  the 
revolutionary  outbreak  of  1848,  she  found  an  excellent 
theme  for  her  next  important  poem,  Casa  Guidi  Windows, 
which  gives  the  impressions  of  the  writer  upon  events 
in  Tuscany  as  she  witnessed  them  from  tlie  windows 
of  her  own  house,  the  Casa  Guidi  in  Florence. 

Mrs.  Browning's  greatest  poem  is  Aurora  Leigh,  a 
poetical  novel  in  blank  verse,  which  appeared  in  1856. 
It  consists  largely  of  an  expression  of  her  decided  opin- 

223 


224  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

ions  on  the  nature  and  mission  of  woman.  The  poem 
is  a  singular  mixture  of  prose  and  poetry,  in  which  pas- 
sion and  sentiment  are  intermingled  with  metaphysical 
discussions  and  commonplace  conversations.  Her  last 
puljlication  was  a  volume  entitled  Poems  before  Congress, 
issued  in  1860,  which  also  bears  evidence  of  her  great 
interest  in  Italy  and  its  people.  Few  writers  have  ex- 
ercised so  healthful  an  influence  ovei  our  literature  as 
has  Mrs.  Browning.  Indeed,  there  is  scarcely  a  senti- 
ment of  all  that  she  has  so  gracefully  written  which 
any  one  would  wish  omitted. 

^Irs.  Browning  died  on  the  29th  of  June,  1861,  at  her 
home  in  Casa  Guidi,  Florence.  A  marble  tal)let  in  front 
of  the  house,  erected  by  tlie  grateful  people  of  Florence, 
records  the  foct  that  here  "  wrote  and  died  Elizabeth 
Barrett  Browning,  who,  by  her  song,  created  a  golden 
link  between  Italy  and  England." 

CRITICISM  BY  CHAIMBERS. 

The  highest  place  among  our  modern  poetesses  must 
be  claimed  for  Mrs.  Browning,  formerly  Miss  Barrett. 
In  purity  and  loftiness  of  sentiment  and  feeling,  and  in 
intellectual  power,  she  is  excelled  only  by  Tennyson, 
whose  best  works,  it  is  evident,  she  had  carefully  studied. 
Her  earlier  style  reminds  us  more  of  Shelley,  but  this 
arises  from  similarity  of  genius  and  classical  tastes,  not 
imitation.  "  Poetry,"  said  Mrs.  Browning,  "  has  been  as 
serious  a  thing  to  me  as  life  itself;  and  life  has  been  a 
very  serious  thing.  I  never  mistook  pleasure  for  the 
final  cause  of  poetry,  nor  leisure  for  tlie  hour  of  the 
poet.  I  have  done  my  work  so  far  as  work — not  as  mere 
hand-  and  head-work,  apart  from  the  personal  being,  but 
as  the  completest  expression  of  that  being  to  which  I 
could  attain." 


MRS.  BROWNING.  225 

COWPER'S  GRAVE. 

Jfc'E. — This  is  one  of  Mrs.  Browning's  earliest  poems,  but  also 
one  of  tlie  most  finished  of  her  productions.  It  is  written  in  liet 
liest  style. 

It  is  a  place  where  poets  crowned  may  feel  the  heart's  decaying, 
It  is  a  place  where  happy  saints  may  weep  amid  their  praying. 
Yet  let  the  grief  and  humbleness  as  low  as  silence  languish  : 
Earth  surely  now  may  give  her  calm  to  whom  she  gave  hei 
anguish. 

O  poets  I   from  a  maniac's  tongue  was  poured   the  deathless  6 

singing ; 
O  Christians!  at  your  cross  of  hope  a  hopeless  hand  was  clinging; 
O  men  I  this  man  in  brotherhood,  your  weary  paths  beguiling, 
Groaned  inly  while  he  taught  you  peace,  and  died  while  ye 

were  smiling  I 

And  now^,  what  time  ye  all  may  read  through  dimming  tears 

his  story. 
How  discord  on  the  music  fell,  and  darkness  on  the  glory,  10 

And  how  when,  one  by  one,  sweet  sounds  and  wandering  lights 

departed, 
He  wore  no  less  a  loving  face  because  so  broken-hearted, 

He  shall  be  strong  to  sanctify  the  poet's  high  vocation, 
And  bow  the  meekest  Christian  down  in  meeker  adoration. 
Nor  ever  shall  he  be,  in  praise,  by  wise  or  good  forsaken,  15 

Named  softly  as  the  household  name  of  one  whom  God  hath 
taken. 

Analysis. — 3.  What  figure  in  the  line  ?    Parse  ei/encc. 

4.  Earth  ....  may  give,  etc.     What  figure  ? 

5.  a  maniac's  tongue.  To  what  fact  in  the  poet  Cowper's  life  does 
this  refer  ? 

9.  what  time,  the  time  in  which. 
11.  Give  the  construction  of  one  by  one. 
14.  Give  grammatical  construction  of  bow. 

16.  Named  softly,  etc. ;  that  is,   he  sliuuld   be  named  Boflly,  etc 
Give  grajnmatical  construction  of  Natned. 
15 


226  STUDIES  IN  EyaiJSII   LITERATURE. 

With  quiet  sadness  and  no  gloom  J  learn  to  think  upon  hira — 
With  meekness  that  is  gratefulness  to  God  whose  heaven  hath 

won  him, 
^Vho  suffered   once   the  madness-cloud   to   His   own   h  \e   "o 

blind  him, 
But  gently  led   the  blind  along  where  breath  and  bird  could  20 

find  him, 

And   wrought  within   his  shattered   brain  such  quick  poetic 

senses 
As  hills  have  language  for,  and  stars  harmonious  influences. 
The  pulse  of  dew  upon  the  grass  k.<^pt  his  within  its  number, 
And  silent  shadows  from  the  trees  refreshed  him  like  a  slumber. 

Wild,  timid  hares  were  drawn  from  woods  to  share  his  home-  25 
caresses, 

Uplooking  to  his  human  eyes  with  sylvan  tendernesses. 

The  very  world,  by  God's  constraint,  from  falsehood's  ways  re- 
moving, 

Its  women  and  its  men  became,  beside  him,  true  and  loving. 

And  though,  in  blindness,  he  remained  unconscious  of  that 

guiding, 
And  things  provided  came  without  the  sweet  sense  of  providing,  30 
He  testified  this  solemn  truth,  while  frenzy  desolated — 
Nor  man  nor  nature  satisfied,  whom  only  God  created. 

Like  a   sick   child    that  knoweth    not  his   mother  whilst  she 

blesses, 
And  drops  upon  his  burning  brow  the  coolness  of  her  kissea — 


Analysis. — 19.  Name  the  antecedents  of  HHio,  also  of  Ilia. 
20.  breath  a:id  bird.     What  fijjnre  ?     (Jive  the  meaning. 
22.  Give  the  grammatical  CDnstniftinu  of  injiuencea. 
24.  Parse  the  wonls  like  and  ulumher. 
26.  Point  out  the  figure  in  this  line. 

29.  in  blindness,  etc.     Is  the  ex[>re.s.si(>n  figurative  or  literal? 
3.3.  Give  the  granmiatical  coiistrucliou  of  Like  and  cJiild.     What 
b  the  antecedent  of  Tli'Ut 

34.  dropt  .  .  .  .  ihe  aKirxets,  etc     Wliat  figure  ? 


MRS.  BROWNING.  227 

That  turns  his  fevered  eyes  around — "  My  mother  I  where's  my  33 

mother  ?" 
ks  if  such  tender  words  and  deeds  could  come  from  any  other  I — 

The  fever  gone,  with  leaps  of  heart  he  sees  her  bending  o'er 

him, 
Her  face  all  pale  from  watchful  love,  the  unweary  love  she 

bore  him  I — 
Thus  woke  the  poet  from  the  dream  his  life's  long  fever  gave 

him, 
Beneath  those  deep  pathetic  eyes,  which  closed  in  death  to  save  40 

him. 

Thus  ?  Oh,  not  thtis  !  no  type  of  earth  could  image  that  awaking, 
Wherein  he  scarcely  heard  the  chant  of  seraphs   round  him 

breaking, 
Or  felt  the  new  immortal  throb  of  soul  from  body  parted. 
But  felt  those  eyes  alone,  and  knew — ''''My  Saviour  1  not  deserted  I" 

Deserted  I    Who  hath  dreamt  that  when  the  cross  in  darkneRs  ^ 

rested 
Upon  the  Victim's  hidden  face,  no  love  was  manifested  ? 
What  frantic  hands  outstretched  have  e'er  the  atoning  drops 

averted  ? 
What  tears  have  washed  them  from  the  soul,  that  one  should  be 

deserted  ? 

Deserted  I     God  could  separate  from  His  own  essence  rather: 
And  Adam's  sins  have  swept  between  the  righteous  Sou  and  50 
Fathei. 


Analysis.— 38.  oil  pale.     Parse.     Parse  also  uneasy  love. 

39.  What  is  the  meaning  here  of  his  life's  long  /evert     (See  sketch 
cf  Cowper.) 

40.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  line? 

45.  Give  grammatical  construction  of  Deserted. 

What  is  the  meaning  of  the  cross  in  darkness  rested,  eta  ?    What 
la  the  figure  ? 
48.  Wliy  is  one  emphasized,  and  to  whom  does  it  refer? 
50.  Give  the  meaning  of  this  line. 


228         STUDIES  IN  ENOLISH  LITERATURE. 

Yea,  once,  Immanuel's  orphaned  cry  his  universe  hath  shaken — 
It  went  up  single,  echoless,  "My  God,  I  am  forsaken  1" 

It  went  up  from  the  Holy's  lips  amid  his  lost  creation. 

That  of  the  lost  no  son  should  use  those  words  of  desolation  I 

That  earth's  worst  frenzies,  marring  hope,  should  mar  not  hope's  58 

fruition, 
And  I,  on  Cowper's  grave,  should  see  his  rapture  in  a  vision. 


Analysis. — 51,  62.  To  what  do  these  lines  refer? 
62.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  Itf 

54.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

55.  What  is  the  meaning  oi  fruition  f 

50.  on  Cow])ei-'s  grave.     What  does  this  phrase  modify? 


THE  SLEEP. 
Note. — The  following  are  stanzas  5  and  6  from  Mrs.  Browninu'i 
|n.iem,   Tlie  Steep. 

O  earth,  so  full  of  dreary  noises  ! 
O  men,  with  wailing  in  your  voices  I 

O  delvM  gold,  the  wallers  heap  I 
O  strife,  0  curse,  that  o'er  it  fall  I 
God  strikes  a  silence  through  you  all, 

And  "  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

His  dews  drop  mutely  on  the  hill, 
His  cloud  above  it  saileth  still. 

Though  on  its  slope  men  sow  and  tenfi. 
More  softly  than  the  dew  is  shed, 
Or  cloud  is  floated  overhead, 
"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 


21.  JEAN   INGELOW, 

1830  9-1897. 

Miss  Ingelow,  since  the  death  of  Mrs.  Browning,  ie 
certainly  England's  greatest  female  poet.  By  some  the 
date  of  her  birth  is  fixed  as  1825,  and  by  others  as  1830, 
but  since  little  is  known  of  her  private  life,  these  dates 
cannot  be  considered  as  authentic. 

Her  first  success  as  a  writer  was  won  by  a  volume  of 
poems  published  in  England  in  1863,  and  also  imme- 
diately re])ublished  in  America.  It  was  received  with 
great  favor  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  and  at  once 
won  distinction  for  the  author.  Since  then  she  has 
issued  otlier  volumes  of  poems,  but  none  have  so  taken 
hold  on  the  popular  heart  as  her  first  effort. 

In  prose  Miss  Ingelow  has  done  but  little,  her  chief 
work  being  a  novel.  Off  the  Skelligs,  published  in  1872. 
She  is  author  also  of  an  admirable  collection  of  stories 
for  children  entitled  Studies  for  Stories,  among  which 
"Mopsa  and  the  Fairy  "  is  one  of  the  most  charming. 

Miss  Ingelow  is  chiefly  a  lyric  poet,  and  her  poems 
are  characterized  by  a  simplicity  and  gentleness  found 
in  few  compositions.  Among  her  best  poems  are  "  Songs 
of  Seven,"  "  Songs  of  the  Night- Watches,"  "  Songs  Tith 
Preludes,"  "  High  Tide  on  the  Coast  of  Lincolnshire," 
and  "Songs  on  the  Voices  of  Birds." 

She  is  still  living  (1882)  in  England,  and  her  works 
have  had,  and  still  have,  an  extensive  sale  in  both  Eng- 
land and  America.  Tliey  have  won  for  their  writer  a 
degree  of  popularity  seldom  conceded  to  a  living  author- 

229 


230         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

CRITICISM. 

Nothing  appeared  from  her  pen  until  the  year  1863, 
when  her  little  volume,  issued  under  the  modest  title 
Poems,  placed  her  at  once  among  the  foremost  ^\Titer8 
of  England.  Some  of  Miss  Ingelow's  poems,  ])articu- 
larly  "  High  Tide  on  the  Coast  of  Lincolnshire,"  are 
characterized  by  considerable  dramatic  power,  and  all 
of  them  are  marked  b}''  a  sim])licity  and  naturalness 
of  language  that  have  helped  them  to  reach  the  pop- 
ular heart  and  make  them  favorites  with  lovers  of 
poetry.  As  a  lyric  poet  Miss  Ingelow  has  written  some 
songs  of  rare  merit.  Her  "  Songs  of  the  Night- Watches  " 
and  "  Songs  of  Seven  " — the  latter  representing  the  seven 
epochs  in  the  life  of  woman — have  won  for  her  high  dis- 
tinction. 

THE  MIDDLE  WATCH. 

Note. — The  following  extract  is  taken  from  Miss  Ingelow's  poem 
entitled  "  The  Songs  of  tlie  Night-Watches." 

I. 

I  WOKE  in  the  night,  and  the  darkness  was  heavy  and  deep ; 

I  had  known  it  was  dark  in  my  sleep, 

And  I  rose  and  looked  out. 

And  the  fathomless  vault  was  all  sjiarkling,  set  thick  round 
about 

With  the  ancient  inhabiters  silent,  and  wheeling  too  far  f 

For  man's  heart,  like  a  voyaging  frigate,  to  sail,  where  re- 
mote 

In  the  sheen  of  their  glory  they  float, 


ANALYSIS. — 4.  fathomless  vault.     What  figure?     What  doea  th« 
Word  (ill  modify  ?     Parse  round  about. 

5.  Wliat  is  the  difference  lietweeii  inhnhiters  and  inhabilantat 

6.  Point  out  and  name  the  figure  in  this  line. 

7.  What  is  meant  by  sheen t 


JEAN  INOELOW.  231 

Or  man's  soul,  like  a  bird,  to  fly  near,  of  their  beams  to  par- 
take, 
And  dazed  in  tlieir  wake 

Drink  day  tliat  is  born  of  a  star.  H 

I  murmured,  "  Remoteness  and  greatness,  how  deep  you  are  set  1 
How  afar  in  the  rim  of  the  whole  I 

You  know  nothing  of  me,  nor  of  man,  nor  of  earth,  oh,  nor  yet 
Cf  our  light-bearer, — drawing  the  marvelous  moons  as  they 

roll. 
Of  our  regent,  the  sun.  15 

I  look  on  you  trembling,  and  think,  in  the  dark  with  my  soul, 
'How  small  is  our  place  'mid  the  kingdoms  and  nations  of 

God  I 
These  are  greater  than  we,  every  one." 
And  there  falls  a  great  fear,  and  a  dread  cometh  over  that 

cries, 
0  my  hope !     Is  there  any  mistake  ?  20 

Did  He  speak  ?   Did  I  hear  ?   Did  I  listen  aright  if  He  spake? 
Did  I  answer  Him  duly  ?  for  surely  1  now  am  awake. 
If  never  I  woke  until  now." 
And  a  light,  baffling  wind,  that  leads  nowhither,  plays  on  my 

brow. 
As  a  sleep,  I  must  think  on  my  day,  of  my  path  as  unti  od,      25 
Or  trodden  in  dreams,  in  a  dreamland  whose  coasts  are  a 

doubt ; 
Whose  countries  recede  from  my  thoughts,  as  they  grope  round 

about. 
And  vanish,  and  tell  me  not  how. 


Analysts. — 8.  Parse  the  words  like  and  bird. 
8-10.  Name  the  fif,'ures  in  tliese  lines. 
11.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

What  is  the  objed  of  murmured  f 

Give  the  construction  of  Remoteness  and  greatnettu 

16  What  does  trembliny  modify? 
Kame  tlie  object  of  think. 

17  'mi'J.     What  figure  of  orthography? 
19    Name  ihe  object  of  criea. 

24    nmchitli^r.     Why  nouhither,  rather  than  nowhere 
27    Nanie  the  antecedent  of  thty. 


232  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Be  kind  to  our  darkness,  O  Fashioner  dwelling  in  light, 

And  feeding  the  lamps  of  the  sky ;  30 

Look  down  upon  this  one,  and  let  it  be  sweet  in  Thy  sight, 

I  pray  Thee,  to-night. 

Oh  watch  whom  Thou  madest  to  dwell  on  its  soil,  Thou  Meet 

High  I 
For  this  is  a  world  full  of  sorrow  (there  may  be  but  one); 
Keep  watch  o'er  its  dust,  else  Thy  children  for  aye  are  un-  36 

done, 
For  this  is  a  world  where  we  die. 

II. 
•   With  that,  a  still  voice  in  my  spirit  that  moved  and  that 

yearned 
(There  fell  a  great  calm  while  it  apake), 
I  heard  it  erewhile,  but  the  noises  of  life  are  so  loud 
That  sometimes  it  dies  in   the  cry  of  the  street  and  the  40 

crowd ; 
To  the  simj)le  it  cometh, — the  child,  or  asleep  or  awake ; 
And  they  know  not  from  whence ;  of  its  nature  the  wise  never 

learned 
By  his  wisdom  ;  its  secret  the  worker  ne'er  earned 
By  his  toil ;  and  the  rich  among  men  never  bought  with  his 

gold; 
Nor  the  timea  of  its  visiting  monarchs  controlled,  45 

Nor  the  jester  put  down  with  his  jeers 

(For  it  moves  where  it  will),  nor  its  season  the  aged  discern 
By  thought,  in  the  ripeness  of  years. 
0  elder  than  reason,  and  stronger  than  will  I 
A  voice,  when  the  dark  world  is  still :  60 


Analysis. — 29.  0  Fashioner.    To  whom  ia  alhision  made  here? 
30.  feeding  the  lampn.     What  figure? 
35.  o^er.     Explain  the  use  of  the  a])08trophe  here. 
Dispose  of  the  word  else. 

41.  or  asleep.     What  is  the  tisiial  form? 

42.  What  is  the  antecetlent  of  iheyf 

49.  O  elder.     Why  elder  rather  than  older  after  Of 
W    What  figurfi  <n  the  line? 


JEAN  INGELOW.  233 

Whence  cometh  it?    Father  Immortal,  Thou  knowest  I  and 

we — 
We  are  sure  of  that  witness,  that  sense,  which  ia  sent  as  cf 

Thee ; 
Foi   it  moves,  and  it  yearns,  in  ita  fellowship  mighty  and 

dread, 
All  1  let  down  to  our  hearts  it  is  touched  by  the  tears  that  we 

shed ; 
It  is  more  than  all  meanings  and  over  all  strife ;  55 

On  its  tongue  are  the  laws  of  our  life. 
And  it  counts  up  the  times  of  the  dead. 

III. 
I  will  fear  you,  O  stars,  nevermore ; 
I  have  felt  it  1     Go  on,  while  the  world  is  asleep. 
Golden  islands,  fast  moored  in  God's  infinite  deep.  60 

Hark,  hark  to  the  words  of  sweet  fashion,  the  harpings  of 

yore  I 
How  they  sang  to  Him,  seer  and  saint,  in  the  far-away  lands, 
"  The  heavens  are  the  work  of  Thy  hands ; 
They  shall  perish,  but  Thou  shall  endure ; 

Yea,  they  all  shall  wax  old ;  66 

But  Thy  throne  is  established,  O  God,  and  Thy  years  are 

made  sure ; 
They  shall  perish,  but  Thou  shalt  endure,— 
They  shall  pass  like  a  tale  that  is  told." 
Doth  He  answer,  the  Ancient  of  Days  ? 

Will  He  speak  in  the  tongue  and  the  fashion  of  men  ?  70 

(Histl  hist  I  while  the  heaven-hung  multitudes  shine  in  Hia 

praise, 

Analysis. — 52.  Why  ifl  we  repeated? 

53.  Dispose  of  the  words  mighty  and  dread, 

64.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  lei. 

57.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  counts  up, 
60.  Oolden  islands,  etc.     What  figure? 
62-68.  Name  the  entire  object  of  sang. 

65.  What  is  the  meaning  of  wax  old? 

68.  What  tigure  in  the  line?     Parse  like  and  (aU. 

69.  Give  the  conbtructiou  oi  AncienL 


234  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

His  language  of  old.)    Nay,  He  spoke  with  them  first;  it 

was  then 
That  they  lifted  their  eyes  to  His  throne : 
"They  shall  call  ou  Me,  'Thou  art  our  Father,  our  God,  Thou 

alone  I' 
For  I  made  them,  I  led  them  in  deserts  and  desolate  ways :      78 
1  have  found  them  a  Ransom  Divine ; 

I  liave  loved  them  with  love  everlasting,  the  children  of  men; 
I  swear  by  Myself,  they  are  Mine." 


Analysis. — 72.  Give  the  grammatical  oonstruction  oi  Nay    Name 
the  modi  tier  of  it. 
74.  Of  what  is  this  line  a  modifier  ? 

76.  "Why  Ransom  Divine  with  capital  letters  ? 

77.  In  what  case  is  children  f 
78   Parse  the  word  Mine. 


"WORK. 
Like  coral  insects  multitudinous 

The  minutes  are  whereof  our  life  is  made. 

They  build  it  up  as  in  the  deep's  blue  shade 
It  grows,  it  comes  to  light,  and  then  and  thus 
For  both  there  is  an  end.    The  populous 

Sea-blossoms  close,  our  minutes  that  have  paid 

Life's  debt  of  work  are  spent ;  the  work  is  laid 
Before  our  feet  that  shall  ctnue  after  us. 
We  may  not  stay  to  watdi  if  it  will  speed. 

The  bard  if  on  some  luter's  string  his  song 
Live  sweetly  yet;  the  hero  if  his  star 
Doth  shine.     Work  is  its  own  best  earthly  meed, 

Else  have  we  none  more  than  the  sea-born  tlironaj 
Whc  wrougljt  those  marvelous  islea  that  bloom  afar. 


22.  THOMAS    BABINGTON    MACAULAY, 

1800-1859. 

Lord  Macaulay,  the  most  brilliant  historical  writer 
of  the  Victorian  Age,  though  of  Scotch  descent,  was 
born,  October  25,  1800,  in  Leicestershire,  England,  at 
Rothley  Temple,  the  house  of  his  uncle,  Thomas  Bab- 
ington,  Esq.,  a  wealthy  merchant,  from  whom  he  took 
his  name.  His  father  was  Zachary  Macaulay,  a  man 
who  spent  much  of  his  life  in  the  island  of  Jamaica 
exerting  himself  to  sui)press  the  African  slave-trade. 

At  the  age  of  nineteen  Macaulay  entered  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  where  he  gained  two  prizes  for  poems 
— one,  in  1819,  on  Pomjmi;  and  another,  two  years  later, 
on  Ecening.  He  took  his  degree,  B.  A.,  in  1822,  and  be- 
came a  Fellow  of  the  college  in  1824,  taking  his  degree, 
M.  A.,  in  1825.  He  had  already  distinguished  himself 
by  his  contributions  to  KnigJii's  Quarterly  Magazine^  and 
in  August,  1825,  his  celebrated  article  on  Milton  ap- 
peared in  the  Edinburgh  Review.  This  may  be  con- 
sidered as  the  starting-point  of  JNLacaulay's  famous  lit- 
erary career.  The  article  at  once  arrested  the  attention 
of  the  reading  public,  and  was  regarded  as  the  promise 
of  still  more  brilliant  productions  from  its  author's  pen. 

Having  studied  law  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  Macaulay  was 
called  to  the  l)ar  in  182(5,  and  in  1827  Lord  Lyndhurst 
appointed  him  commissioner  of  bankruptcy.  Three 
years  afterward  he  became  a  member  of  Parliament  for 
Calne,  and  from  1832  to  1834  he  was  a  member  for 
Leeds.  After  this  he  went  to  India  as  the  legal  adviser 
to  the  Su2)reme  Council  of  Calcutta,  where  he  remained 

235 


236         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

until  1839.  Havino;  returned  to  England,  he  again  he* 
came  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  for  eight  years  repre- 
sented Edinburgh.  In  1847  he  was  defeated,  and  his 
attention  was  turned  more  directly  again  to  literature. 
[n  1849  the  first  two  volumes  of  his  famous  History  of 
England  were  given  to  the  public,  by  whom  they  weie 
received  with  great  enthusiasm.  The  plan  of  the  His- 
tory, as  the  author  expresses  it,  is  given  as  follows :  "  I 
purpose  to  write  the  history  of  England  from  the  acces- 
sion of  King  James  II.  down  to  a  time  which  is  within 
the  memory  of  men  still  living."  The  author,  however, 
never  finished  the  work.  It  was  brought  down  only  to 
the  death  of  William  III.,  when  the  author's  own  death, 
on  the  18th  of  December,  1859,  ended  his  labor. 

Macaulay  was  returned  to  Parliament  b\'  Edinburgh 
in  1852,  but  in  1856  he  was  made  Baron  Macaulay  of 
Rothley  Temple,  and  he  became  a  member  of  the  House 
of  Lords — the  only  man  in  England  who  was  ever  made 
a  lord  on  account  of  the  fame  he  had  won  as  a  WTiter. 

Macaulay  wrote  not  only  prose,  but  also  poetry. 
Among  his  chief  poems  are  Lays  of  An  dent  Ronie  and  a 
number  of  ballads.  His  chief  prose  works  are  his  Essays 
and  History  of  England. 

CRITICISM   BY  E.  A.  FREEMAN. 

Macaulay  is  a  model  of  style — of  siyle  not  merely  as 
a  kind  of  literary  luxury,  but  of  style  in  the  practical 
aspect.  When  I  say  he  is  a  model  of  style,  I  do  not 
mean  that  it  is  wise  in  any  writer  to  copy  Macaulay's 
style — to  try  to  write  something  that  might  be  mistaken 
for  Macaulay's  writing.  So  to  do  is  not  to  follow  in  the 
steps  of  a  great  writer,  but  merely  to  imitate  his  out- 
ward manner.  So  to  do  is  not  the  part  of  a  disciple, 
but  the  part  of  an  ape.     But  every  one  who  wishes  to 


THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAU  LAY. 


237 


write  dear  and  pure  English  will  do  well  to  become, 
not  Macaulay's  ape,  but  Macaulay's  disciple.  Every 
writer  of  English  will  do  well  not  only  to  study  Macau- 
lay's writings,  but  to  bear  them  in  his  mind,  and  very 
often  to  ask  himself,  not  whether  his  writing  is  like 
Macaulay's  writing,  but  whether  his  writing  is  such  as 
Macaulay  would  have  approved. 


THE  PURITANS. 

Note. — This  sketch,  which  shows  some  of  the  most  prominent 
characteristics  of  Macaulay's  admirable  style,  is  taken  from  hia 
article  on  Milton,  published  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  for  August, 
1825.  It  is  an  extract  from  the  article  which,  though  written  by 
Macaulay  when  but  twenty-five  years  of  age,  and  since  characterized 
in  his  own  words  as  being  "overloaded  with  gaudy  ornament,"  first 
won  for  him  fame  as  an  author. 

We  would  speak  first  of  the  Puritans,  the  most  remark- 
able body  of  men,  perhaps,  which  the  world  has  ever 
produced.  The  odious  and  ridiculous  parts  of  their 
character  lie  on  the  surface.  He  that  runs  may  read 
them ;  nor  have  there  been  wanting  attentive  and  ma-  5 
licious  observers  to  point  them  out.  For  many  years 
after  the  Restoration  they  were  the  theme  of  unmeas- 
ured invective  and  derision.  They  were  exposed  to  the 
utmost  licentiousness  of  the  press  and  of  the  stage  at  the 


Notes. — 1.  Puritans.  The  Pur- 
itans were  a  religious  sect 
■who  were  opposed  to  all 
forms  in  religion  and  who 
btlieved  in  a  simpler  mode 
of  worship.  The  word  is 
deri\ed   from    pure,   and   it 


was  originally  applied  as  a 
nickname. 
7.  The  Restoration.  This  refers 
to  the  restoration  of  the 
House  of  Stuart  by  placing 
King  Charles  II.  on  (t 
throne  in  the  year  1660. 


Analysis. — 6.  To  what  does  them  refer? 
7.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  theyt 


238  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH   LITERATURE. 

time  when  the  press  and  the  8taf:;e  were  most  licentious.  10 
They  were  not  men  of  letters ;  they  were  as  a  body  un- 
popular; they  could  not  defend  themselves,  and  the 
public  would  not  take  them  under  its  protection.  They 
were  therefore  abandoned,  without  reserve,  to  tl),e  tender 
meicies  of  the  satirists  and  dramatists.  The  ostentatious  15 
simplicity  of  their  dress,  their  sour  aspect,  their  nasal 
twang,  their  stiff  posture,  their  long  graces,  their  Hebrew 
names,  their  scriptural  phrases  which  they  introduced 
on  every  occasion,  their  contempt  of  human  learning, 
their  detestation  of  polite  amusements,  were  indeed  fair  20 
game  for  the  laughers.  But  it  is  not  ft-om  the  laughers 
alone  that  the  philosophy  of  history  is  to  be  learned. 
And  he  who  approaches  this  subject  should  carefully 
guard  against  the  influence  of  that  potent  ridicule  which 
has  already  misled  so  many  excellent  writers.  25 

Those  who  roused  the  people  to  resistance,  who  directed 
their  measures  through  a  long  series  of  eventful  years, 
who  formed,  out  of  the  most  unpromising  materials,  the 
finest  army  that  Europe  had  ever  seen,  who  trampled 
down  king,  Church,  and  aristocracy,  who,  in  the  short  3( 
intervals  of  domestic  sedition  ^and  rebellion,  made  the 
name  of  England  terrible  to  every  nation  on  the  face 
of  the  earth, — were  no  vulgar  fanatics.  Most  of  ti)eir 
absurdities  were  mere  external  badges,  like  the  signs 
of  freemasonary  or  the  dresses  of  friars.  We  regret  35 
that  these  badges  were  not  more  attractive.  We  regret 
tliat  a  body  to  whose  courage  and  talents  mankind  lias 
owed  inestimable  obligations  had  not  the  lofty  elegance 
which  distinguished  some  of  the  adherents  of  Charles  I., 

Analysfs. — 10.  ihe  prens  and  the  xtcifje.     "W'hnl  fijjiire? 

11,  12.  Wliat  figure  in  these  lines?    What  is  meant  by  jneno/feW«r«  f 

20.  Name  the  sulyecta  of  were. 

21,  22.  Name  tlie  siihject  of  the  Beutence,  and  give  the  m  xlifiera. 
34.   Parse  like  %\u\  sicjna. 


THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAULAY.  239 

or  the  easy  good-breeding  for  which  the  court  of  Cliarles  40 
II.  was  celebrated.  But  if  we  must  make  our  choice,  we 
shall,  like  Bassanio  in  the  play,  turn  from  the  specious 
caskets  which  contain  only  the  death's  head  and  the 
fool's  head,  and  fix  our  choice  on  the  plain  leaden  chest 
which  conceals  the  treasure.  -15 

The  Puritans  were  men  whose  minds  had  derived  a 
peculiar  character  from  the  daily  contemplation  of  su- 
perior beings  and  eternal  interests.  Not  content  with 
acknowledging  in  general  terms  an  over-ruling  Provi- 
dence, they  habitually  ascribed  every  event  to  the  will  50 
of  the  Great  Being  for  whose  power  nothing  was  too 
vast,  for  whose  inspection  nothing  was  too  minute.  To 
know  Him,  to  serve  Him,  to  enjoy  Him,  was  witli  them 
the  great  end  of  existence.  They  rejected  with  contempt 
the  ceremonious  homage  which  other  sects  substituted  55 
for  the  pure  worship  of  the  soul.  Instead  of  catching 
occasional  glimpses  of  the  Deity  through  an  obscuring 
veil,  they  aspired  to  gaze  full  on  the  intolerable  bright- 
ness, and  to  commune  with  Him  face  to  face.  Hence 
originated  their  contempt  for  terrestrial  distinctions.  60 
The  difference  between  the  greatest  and  meanest  of 
mankind  seemed  to  vanish  when  compared  with  the 
boundless  interval  which  separated  the  whole  race  from 
Him  on  whom  their  own  eyes  were  constantly  fixed. 
They  recognized  no  title  to  superiority  but  His  favor ;  65 


Analysis. — 40,41.  the  court  of  Charles  II.     What  figure? 
42    Parse  like  and  Bassanio. 
43.  What  is  the  meanins:  of  death's  head? 
48.  What  does  the  phra.se  not  content,  etc.  modify? 
52-54.  To  know  ....  existence.     Analyze.     What  figure  of  speeih  ? 
56-59.  What  figure  in  the  sentence? 

61,  62.  the  greatest  and  meanest  oj  mankind.  Is  the  expression  correct 
fflien  referring  to  two? 
65.  Dispose  of  buL 


240  STUDIES  IN  ENOLISH  LITERATURE. 

and,  confident  of  tliat  favor,  they  des])ised  all  the  ao. 
complishnieuts  and  all  the  dignities  of  the  world.  If 
they  were  unacquainted  with  the  works  of  philosophers 
and  poets,  they  were  deeply  read  in  the  oracles  of  God. 
If  their  names  were  not  found  in  the  registers  of  heralds,  70 
they  felt  assured  that  they  were  recorded  in  the  Book  of 
Life  If  their  steps  were  not  accompanied  by  a  splendid 
train  of  menials,  legions  of  ministering  angels  had  charge 
over  them. 

Their  palaces  were  houses  not  made  with  hands ;  their  75 
diadems,  crowns  of  glory  which  should  never  fade  away. 
On  the  rich  and  the  eloquent,  on  nobles  and  priests,  they 
looked  down  with  contempt;  for  they  esteemed  them- 
selves rich  in  a  more  precious  treasure  and  eloquent  in 
a  more  sublime  language — nobles  by  the  right  of  an  ear-  80 
lier  creation,  and  priests  by  the  imposition  of  a  mightier 
hand.     The  very  meanest  of  them  was  a  being  to  whose 
fate  a  mysterious  and  terrible  importance  belonged — on 
whose  slightest  actions  the  spirits  of  light  and  darkness 
looked  with  anxious  interest — who  had  been  destined,  85 
before  heaven  and  earth  were  created,  to  enjoy  a  felicity 
which  should  continue  when  heaven  and  earth  should 
have  passed  away. 

Events   which  short-sighted   politicians    ascribed   to 
earthly  causes  had  been  ordained  on  his  account.     For  90 
his  sake  empires  had  risen  and  flourished  and  decayed. 

Analysis.— 67-74.  What  fi),Mire  predominates  in  these  lines? 

69.  oracJen  of  God.     What  is  the  meaning? 

70.  heralds.   These  were  officers  wljose  duty  it  was  to  keep  a  register 
of  the  arms  of  the  nobility. 

71.  72.  Book  of  Life.     Wh.at  fiffiire? 

79.  nuire  prermis  trervmre.     What  is  referre<l  to? 

81.  Exphiin  the  tise  of  the  terms  creation  and  iviposUion. 

82-88.  Analyze  the  sentence. 

90.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  his7 

90,  91.  For  hia  sake  ....  dvsayed.     Wluit  figure? 


THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAULAY.  241 

For  his  sake  the  Almighty  had  prodaimed  His  will  by 
the  pen  of  the  evangelist  and  the  harp  of  the  prophet. 
He  had  been  rescued  by  no  common  deliverer  from  the 
grasp  of  no  common  foe.  He  had  been  ransomed  by  95 
the  sweat  of  no  vulgar  agony,  by  the  blood  of  no  earth- 
ly sacrifice.  It  was  for  him  that  the  sun  had  been 
darkened,  that  the  rocks  had  been  rent,  that  the  dead 
had  arisen,  that  all  Nature  had  shuddered  at  the  suffer- 
ings of  her  expiring  God  !  KX 

Thus  the  Puritan  was  made  up  of  two  different  men — 
the  one  all  self-abasement,  penitence,  gratitude,  passion ; 
the  other  proud,  calm,  inflexible,  sagacious.  He  pros- 
trated himself  in  the  dust  before  his  Maker,  but  he  set 
his  foot  on  the  neck  of  his  king.  In  his  devotional  re-  105 
tirement  he  prayed  with  convulsions  and  groans  and 
tears.  He  was  half-maddened  by  glorious  or  terrible 
illusions.  He  heard  the  lyres  of  angels  or  the  tempt- 
ing whispers  of  fiends.  He  caught  a  gleam  of  the  Bea- 
tific Vision,  or  woke  screaming  from  dreams  of  everlast-  l.Q 
ing  fire.  Like  Vane,  he  thought  himself  entrusted  with 
the  sceptre  of  the  millennial  year.  Like  Fleetwood,  he 
cried  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul  that  God  .had  hid  His 
face  from  hira.         

Notes. — 111.  Vane.      This  was  I  Civil  War  was  on  the  side 

Sir  Henry  Vane,  who  was  I  of  Parliament. 

I 
A  member  of  the  Council  I  112.  Fleetwood  was  the  son-in- 

of  State,  and  who  in  the  law  of  Cromwell. 

Analysis. — 92,  93.  For  his  sake  ....  prophet.    What  figure? 
97-100.  Name  the  modifiers  of  R.     What  figures  in  these  lines? 
101.  I'arse  «a.s  nuide  up. 
101-103.  What  figure  in  the  sentence? 

108.  ilhisions.     Notice  that  these  illusions  are  exemplified  in  the 
Dftxt  two  sentences. 

108,  109.  He  heard  the  lyres  of  angels,  etc     What  figure? 

109,  110.  Beatific  Vision.     Wh.at  is  meant  by  this? 

IH.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  Li/te  and  Vane. 


242 


STUDIES  IN  ENGirSH  LITERATURE. 


But  when  he  took  his  seat  in  the  council  or  girt  on  115 
his  sword  for  war,  these  tempestuous  workings  of  the 
soul  had  left  no  perceptihle  trace  behind  them.     People 
who  saw  nothing  of  the  godly  but  their  uncouth  visages, 
and  heard  nothing  from  them  but  their  groans  and  their 
whining  hymns,  might  laugh  at  them.     But  those  had  12C 
little  reason  to  laugh  who  encountered  them  in  the  hali 
of   debate  or  in   the  field   of  battle.     These   fanatics 
brought  to  civil  and  military  aftairs  a  coolness  of  judg- 
ment and   an  immutability    of   purpose   which   some 
writers  have  thought  inconsistent  with  their  religious  125 
zeal,  but  which  were  in  fact  the  necessary  effects  of  it. 

The  intensity  of  their  feelings  on  one  subject  made 
them  tranquil  on  every  other.  One  overpowering  sen- 
timent had  subjected  to  itself  pity  and  hatred,  ambi- 
tion and  fear.  Death  had  lost  its  terrors,  and  pleasure  130 
its  charms.  They  had  their  smiles  and  their  tears, 
their  raptures  and  their  sorrows,  but  not  for  the  things 
of  this  world.  Enthusiasm  had  made  them  stoics,  had 
cleared  their  minds  from  every  vulgar  passion  and  prej- 
udice, and  raised  them  above  the  influence  of  danger  135 
and  corruption.  It  sometimes  might  leiid  them  to  pur- 
sue unwise  ends,  but  never  to  choose  unwise  means. 
They  went  through  the  world  like  Sir  Artegal's  iron 
man  Talus  with  his  flail,  crushing  and  train])ling  down 
oppressors;  mingling  with  human  beings,  but  having  140 
neither  part  nor  lot  in  human  infirmities ;  insensible  to 
fatigue,  to  pleasure,  dnd  to  pain ;  not  to  be  pierced  by 
any  weapon,  not  to  be  withstood  by  any  barrier. 


Note.— 138.  Sir  Artegal's  iron 
man  Talus.  Spenser  rep- 
resents Talus  afl  the  attend- 
ant of  "the  champion  of 


Tnie  .lustice,  Art«ga!," 
who  with  an  iron  flail 
threshes  out  faisehooJ  and 
unl'uldH  truth. 


23.   CHARLES    DICKEJ^S, 

1812-1870. 

Charles  Dickens,  the  most  popular  novelist  of  the 
Victorian  Age,  was  born  in  Portsmouth,  where  his 
father,  John  Dickens,  held  a  position  in  the  pay  de- 
partment of  the  navy,  but  so  much  of  the  novelist's 
life  was  spent  in  London  that  essentially  he  may  be 
called  a  Londoner.  His  father  became  a  reporter  for 
Parliament,  and  here  the  young  novelist  first  acquired 
a  taste  for  literary  work.  His  father,  however,  preferred 
that  Charles  should  be  an  attorney,  and  therefore  put 
him  to  the  study  of  law  in  an  attorney's  office.  But 
the  occupation  was  so  distasteful  to  the  young  man 
that  he  soon  abandoned  it,  and  became  a  reporter  for 
the  London  newspapers;  and  it  was  in  this  capacity 
that  he  acquired  that  keen  insight  into  human  charac- 
ter, and  that  full  appreciation  and  knowledge  of  the 
follies  and  eccentricities  of  mankind,  which  have  made 
his  novels  so  popular  and  enjoyable  wherever  the  Eng- 
lish language  is  read. 

His  first  literary  success  was  a  series  of  character- 
sketches  entitled  Sketches  by  Boz,  the  nom-de-plume  being 
a  little  sister's  pronunciation  of  Moses,  the  nickname 
applied  by  Dickens  to  a  younger  brother.  These  sketches 
first  appeared  in  the  Clironicle,  but  were  afterward  printed 
in  book-form,  and  they  met  with  a  ready  sale. 

The  author  was  now  called  upon  to  write  the  adven- 
tures and  misadventures  of  an  ideal  company  of  Cock- 
ney sportsmen,  the  illustrations  for  the  sketches  to  bo 
fu'rnii^hed  by  Mr.  Seymour.     This  volume,  under  the 

213 


244         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

title  TJie  Posthumous  Papers  of  the  Pichiv'r.k  Club,  first 
appeared  in  monthly  parts,  and  was  hailed  with  great 
delight,  establishing  for  the  author  the  beginning  of  the 
great  fame  which  he  afterward  attained  as  a  novelist. 

Volume  after  volume  followed  rapidly  from  his  pen, 
and  after  having  published  Nicholas  Nicklehyy  Oliver 
Twist,  The  Old  Curiosity  Shop,  and  Barnaby  Rudge, 
Dickens  made  a  visit  to  America,  in  which  he  gleaned 
the  material  for  his  Avierican  Notes  for  General  Circula- 
tion and  Martin  Chuzzlexcit,  in  which  works  he  greatly 
exaggerated  such  peculiarities  and  eccentricities  of  the 
A.mericans  as  fell  under  his  observation.  But  this  is 
characteristic  of  all  his  work.  It  is  caricature  and  ex- 
aggeration, in  a  great  measure,  that  have  made  his  writ- 
ings popular. 

After  Dickens's  return  from  America  he  spent  a  year 
in  Italy,  and  then,  returning  to  England,  established 
and  edited  the  Daily  News.  But  he  soon  abandoned 
this,  and  again  began  his  favorite  work  of  writing  fic- 
tion. Dombey  and  Son,  David  Copperfield,  and  Bleak  House 
appeared  in  succession.  In  1850  he  took  charge  of 
Household  Words,  which  afterward  became  his  own 
property  under  the  name  All  the  Year  Round,  and  in 
this  he  ])ublished  most  of  his  subsequent  novels  in 
weekly  installments. 

Among  Dickens's  other  works  are  Christmas  Stories,  A 
Child's  History  of  Enyland,  and  the  novels  Hard  Times, 
Little  Dorrit,  A  Tale  of  Tivo  Cities,  Great  Expectations,  Our 
Mutual  Friend,  and  Edwin  Drood;  the  last  of  which  was 
left  incomplete  at  the  time  of  his  deatli,  from  overwork, 
in  1870. 

CRITICISM   BY  TAINE. 

When  the  mind,  with  rapt  attention,  penetrates  the 
minute  details  of  a  precise  image,  joy  and  grief  shake 


CHARLES  DILKENS.  245 

the  whole  man.  Dickens  has  this  attention  and  sees 
these  details ;  this  is  why  he  meets  everywhere  with 
objects  of  exaltation.  He  never  abandons  his  impas- 
sioned tone;  he  never  rests  in  a  natural  style  and  in 
simple  narrative ;  he  only  rails  or  weeps ;  he  writes  but 
satires  or  elegies This  impassioned  style  is  ex- 
tremely potent,  and  to  it  may  be  attributed  half  the 
glory  of  Dickens.  The  majority  of  men  have  only 
weak  emotions.  We  labor  mechanically,  and  yawn 
much ;  three- fourths  of  things  leave  us  cold ;  we  go  to 
sleep  by  habit,  and  we  no  longer  remark  the  household 
scenes,  petty  details,  stale  adventures,  which  are  the 
basis  of  our  existence.  A  man  comes  who  suddenly 
renders  them  interesting;  nay,  who  makes  them  dra- 
matic, changes  them  into  objects  of  admiration,  tender- 
ness, and  dread. 

We  are  immersed  for  two  hundred  pages  in  a  torrent 
of  new  emotions,  contrary  and  increasing,  which  com- 
municates its  violence  to  the  mind,  which  carries  it 
away  in  digressions  and  falls,  and  only  casta  it  on  the 
bank  enchanted  and  exhausted.  It  is  an  intoxication, 
and  on  a  delicate  soul  the  effect  would  be  too  forcible ; 
but  it  suits  the  English  public,  and  that  public  has 
justified  it. 

THE  LAST  HOURS  OF  LITTLE  PAUL  DOMBEY. 
Paul  had  never  risen  from  his  little  bed.  He  lay 
there,  listening  to  the  noises  in  the  street,  quite  tran- 
quilly ;  not  caring  mucli  how  the  time  went,  but  watch- 
ing everything  about  him  with  observing  eyes.  When 
the  sunbeams  struck  into  his  room  through  tlie  rustling  5 
blinds,  and  quivered  on  the  opposite  wall  like  golden 


Analysis. — 6,  7.  Point  out  the  figure  in  tiiesse  lines.    Give  tl»e 
grajuiujitical  coiistrucliou  ol'  like  and  water. 


246         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

water,  he  knew  that  evening  was  coming  on,  and  that 
the  sky  was  red  and  beautiful.  As  the  reflection  died 
away,  and  the  gloom  went  creeping  up  the  wall,  he 
watched  it  deepen,  deepen,  deepen  into  night.  Then  10 
he  thought  how  the  long  streets  were  dotted  witli 
lamps,  and  how  peaceful  stars  were  shining  overhead. 
His  fancy  had  a  strange  tendency  to  wander  to  the 
river,  which  he  knew  was  flowing  through  the  great 
city ;  and  now  he  thought  how  black  it  was,  and  how  15 
deep  it  would  look,  reflecting  the  hosts  of  stars,  and, 
more  than  all,  how  steadily  it  rolled  away  to  meet 
the  sea. 

As  it  grew  later  in  the  night,  and  footsteps  in  the 
street  became  so  rare  that  he  could  hear  them  coming,  20 
count  them  as  they  passed,  and  lose  them  in  the  hollow 
distance,  he  would  lie  and  watch  the  many-colored  ring 
about  the  candle  and  wait  patiently  for  day.  His  only 
trouble  was,  the  swift  and  rapid  river.  He  felt  forced, 
sometimes,  to  try  to  stop  it — to  steui  it  with  his  childish  25 
hands,  or  choke  its  way  with  sand — and  when  he  saw  it 
coming  on,  resistless,  he  cried  out.  But  a  word  from 
Florence,  who  was  always  at  his  side,  restored  him  to 
himself;  and,  leaning  his  poor  head  upon  her  breast,  he 
told  Floy  of  his  dream,  and  smiled.  30 

When  day  began  to  dawn  again,  he  watched  for  the 
8un ;  and  when  its  cheerful  light  began  to  sparkle  in  tlie 
room,  he  pictured  to  himself — pictured  1    He  saw  the 


Analysis. — 10.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  deepen. 

15.  Name  the  ()l)ieftive  modiliers  of  thoiufhl. 

21,  22.  hoUow  dUUince.     Wliat  figure? 

25.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  to  try  and  to  slop. 

27.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  coming  and  redetleat. 

28.  29.  restored  him  to  himself.     P21ucidate. 

29.  his  poor  Iteud      What  figure? 
«J2.  cJieerful  liyld.     What  figure? 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  247 

high  church-lowers  rising  up  into  the  morning  sky,  the 
town  reviving,  waking,  starting  into  life  once  more,  the  35 
river  ghstening  as  it  rolled  (but  rolling  fast  as  ever), 
and  the  country  bright  with  dew.  Familiar  sounds  and 
cries  came  by  degrees  into  the  street  below ;  the  servants 
in  the  house  were  roused  and  busy ;  faces  looked  in  at 
the  door,  and  voices  asked  his  attendants  softly  how  he  40 
was.  Paul  always  answered  for  himself,  "  I  am  better. 
I  am  a  great  deal  better,  thank  you  I     Tell  papa  so." 

By  little  and  little  he  got  tired  of  the  bustle  of  the 
day,  the  noise  of  carriages  and  carts,  people  passing  and 
repassing^  and  would  fall  asleep,  or  be  troubled  with  a  45 
restless  and  uneasy  sense  again — the  child  could  hardly 
tell  whether  this  were  in  his  sleeping  or  his  waking 
moments — of  that  rushing  river.  "  Why,  will  it  never 
stop,  Floy?"  he  would  sometimes  ask  her.  "It  is  bear- 
ing me  away,  I  think."  '         50 

But  Floy  could  always  soothe  and  reassure  him ;  and 
it  was  his  daily  delight  to  make  her  lay  her  head  down 
on  his  pillow  and  take  some  rest. 

"  You  are  always  watching  me,  Floy.  Let  me  watch 
you,  now."  They  would  jirop  him  up  with  cushions  in  55 
a  corner  of  his  bed,  and  there  he  would  recline  the  while 
she  lay  beside  him ;  beading  forward  oftentimes  to  kiss 
her,  and  whispering  to  those  who  were  near  that  she 
was  tired,  and  how  she  had  sat  up  so  many  nights  be- 
side him.  60 

Thus  the  flush  of  the  day,  in  its  heat  and  light,  would 


Analysis. — 34,  35.  the  town  ranving,  waking,  etc.     What  figure? 

35.  Give  tlie  gramii\alicaJ  cousiruclion  of  reviving,  waking,  starting, 
tllisteniiig. 

39,  40.  faces  looked  in,  voice*  finked,  etc.     What  figure? 

4&-48.  child  ....  vwvienls.  (iive  the  grammatical  construction  of 
»li  the  wonlti. 

66.   I'aree  ihf  word  wkiU, 


248         .STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

gradually  decline ;  and  again  the  golden  water  would  be 
dancing  on  the  wall. 

He  was  visited  by  as  many  as  three  grave  doctors — 
Ihey  used  to  assemble  down  stairs,  and  come  up  to-  66 
gether — and  the  room  was  so  quiet,  and  Paul  was  so 
observant  of  them  (though  he  never  asked  of  anybody 
what  they  said),  that  he  even  knew  the  difference  in  the 
sound  of  their  watches.  But  Ids  interest  centred  in 
Sir  Parker  Peps,  who  always  took  his  seat  on  the  side  70 
of  the  bed.  For  Paul  had  heard  them  say  long  ago 
that  that  gentleman  had  been  with  his  mamma  wlien 
she  clasped  Florence  in  her  arms  and  died.  And  he 
could  not  forget  it  now.  He  liked  him  for  it.  He  was 
not  afraid 75 

Paul  closed  his  eyes  with  those  words,  and  fell  asleep. 
When  he  awoke  the  sun  was  high,  and  the  broad  day 
was  clear  and  warm.  He  lay  a  little,  looking  at  the 
windows,  which  were  open,  and  the  curtains  rustling  in 
the  air,  and  waving  to  and  fro :  then  he  said,  "  Floy,  is  80 
it  to-morrow?     Is  slie  come?" 

Some  one  seemed  to  go  in  quest  of  her.     Perhaps  it 
was   Susan.     Paul  thought  he  heard   her  telling  him, 
when  he  had  closed  his  eyes  again,  that  she  would  soon 
be  back ;  but  he  did  not  open  them  to  see.     She  kept  85 
her  word — perhaps  slie  had  never  been  away — but  the 


Analysis. — 62.  tlie  golden  udier,  etc.     What  fif:;iire? 

64.  an  vMJiy  (la  three  .  .  .  ^doctors.  Give  Uie  i^riiniinalical  conBtruo 
lion  of  all  these  words. 

68.  even  knew.  Notice  the  force  of  even  ua  an  eniph.itic  odyerb^ 
relating  to  the  entire  exprejwion. 

71.  I'arae  long  ago;  also,  that  tkal  genUeman. 

76.  fell  uxleep.    Give  the  grammatical  constniclion. 

77.  What  is  the  meat  ing  of  bro(ui  day? 

81.  It  nhe  comef     Notice  the  use  of  is  conve.  '"or  has  com*. 
82    (f'lesl.     ( 'ive  a  rao»^  uiodorn  wonL 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  249 

next  thing  tliat  happened  was  a  noise  of  footsteps  on 
tlie  stairs,  and  then  Paul  woke — woke  mind  and  body — 
and  sat  upright  in  his  bed.  He  saw  them  now  about 
him.  There  was  no  gray  mist  before  them,  as  there  90 
had  been  sometimes  in  the  night.  He  knew  them 
every  one,  and  called  them  by  their  names. 

"And  who  is  this?  Is  this  my  old  nurse?"  said  the 
child,  regarding,  with  a  radiant  smile,  a  figure  coming  in. 

Yes,  yes.  No  other  stranger  would  have  shed  those  95 
tears  at  the  sight  of  him,  and  called  him  her  dear  boy, 
her  pretty  boy,  her  own  poor  blighted  child.  No  other 
woman  would  have  stooped  down  by  his  bed,  and  taken 
up  his  wasted  hand,  and  put  it  to  her  lips  and  breast,  as 
one  who  had  some  right  to  fondle  it.  No  other  woman  IOC 
would  have  so  forgotten  everybody  there  but  him  and 
Floy,  and  been  so  full  of  tenderness  and  pity. 

"  Floy  !  this  is  a  kind,  good  face  I"  said  Paul.  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  it  again.  Don't  go  away,  old  nurse  1  Stay 
here !"  105 

His  senses  were  all  quickened,  and  he  heard  a  name 
he  knew. 

"Who  was  that?  who  said  Walter?"  he  asked,  look- 
ing round.  "Some  one  said  Walter.  Is  he  here?  I 
should  like  to  see  him  very  much."  110 

Nobody  replied  directly,  but  his  father  soon  said  to 
Susan,  "  Call  him  buck,  then  :  let  him  come  uj)."  After 
a  short  ])ause  of  expectation,  during  which  he  looked 
with  smiling  interest  and  wonder  on  his  nurse,  and  saw 
that  she  had  not  forgotten  Floy,  Walter  was  brought  115 


Analysis. — 91,  92.  knew  them  every  one.     Give  the  grammatical 
eonstrucllon  of  oiie. 

101,  102.  brit  him  and  Floy.     Parse  hul  and  Floy. 
106,  107.   W-xird  a  name  he  huna.     Siijiply  the  ellij^is. 
108.  Name  the  object  of  naked. 
Ill,  112.  Name  tlie  iiuxlifjers  of  »iiid. 


250  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

into  tlie  room.  His  open  face  and  manner,  and  his 
cheerful  eyes,  nad  always  made  him  a  favorite  with 
Paul;  and  when  Paul  saw  him  he  stretched  out  his 
hand,  and  said,  "  Good-bye  I" 

"Good-bye,  my  child!"  cried  Mrs.  Pipchin,  hurrying  120 
to  his  bed's  head.     "Not  good-bye?" 

For  an  instant,  Paul  looked  at  her  with  the  wistful 
face  with  which  he  had  so  often  gazed  upon  her  in  his 
corner  by  the  fire.  "  Ah,  yes,"  he  said,  placidly,  "  good- 
bye ! — Walter  dear,  good-bye  I"  turning  his  head  to  where  125 
he  stood,  and  putting  out  his  hand  again. — "Where  is 
papa?" 

He  felt  liis  father's  breath  uj)on  his  cheek  before  the 
words  had  parted  from  his  lips. 

"  Remember  Waller,  dear  pai)a,"  he  whispered,  look- 130 
ing  in  his  face — "  remember  Walter.     I   was   fond   of 
Walter  I"    The  feeble  hand  waved  in  the  air,  as  if  it 
cried  "  Good-bye  I"  to  Walter  once  again. 

"  Now  lay  me  down  again,"  he  said ;  "  and,  Floy,  come 
close  to  me,  and  let  me  see  you."  135 

Sister  and  brother  wound  their  arms  around  each  other, 
and  the  golden  light  came  streaming  in,  and  fell  upon 
them,  locked  together. 

"  How  fast  the  river  runs  between  its  green  banks  and 
the  rushes,  Floy  !    But  it's  very  near  the  sea.    I  hear  the  140 
waves.     They  always  said  so  1" 

Presently  he  told  her  that  the  motion  of  the  boat  upon 
the  stream  was  lulling  him  to  rest.    How  green  the  banks 


Analysis. — 110,  117.  open  face  ....  cheerful  eyes.  Explain  the 
taeaning. 

]  19    Good-bye.     This  is  a  contraction  of  God  be  wUh  you, 

133    once  a<i<nn.     Explain  the  forte  of  tmce. 

134,  135.  cmiie  clou",  to  vie.     What  doiw  clone  mo<lify? 

137.  golden  lujla  came  Blreftrniny.  Wliat  figure?  Give  the  grammat- 
ical coiistnitlion  of  ulreammi/. 


CBAELES  DICKENS.  251 

were  now,  how  bright  the  flowers  growing  on  the.n,  and 
how  tall  the  rushes  1     Now  the  boat  was  out  at  sea,  but  145 
gliding  smoothly  on.     And  now  there  was  a  shore  be- 
fore him.     Who  stood  on  the  bank? 

He  put  his  hands  together,  as  he  had  been  used  to  do 
at  his  prayers.  He  did  not  remove  his  arms  to  do  it, 
but  they  saw  him  fold  thera  so  behind  her  neck.  150 

"  Mamma  is  like  you,  Floy.  I  know  her  by  the  face ! 
But  tell  them  that  the  print  upon  the  stairs  at  school  is 
not  divine  enough.  The  light  about  the  head  is  shining 
on  me  as  I  go  !" 

The  golden  ripple  on  the  wall  came  back  again,  and  155 
nothing  else  stirred  in  the  room.  The  old,  old  fashion ! 
The  fashion  that  came  in  with  our  first  garments,  and 
will  last  unchanged  until  our  race  has  run  its  course, 
and  the  wide  firmament  is  rolled  up  like  a  scroll.  The 
old,  old  fashion — Death  1  160 

Oh  thank  God,  all  who  see  it,  for  that  older  fashion 
yet,  of  immortality  !  And  look  upon  us,  angels  of  young 
children,  with  regards  not  quite  estranged,  when  the  swift 
river  bears  us  to  the  ocean ! 


Analysis. — 151.  is  like  you.     Parse  like  and  you. 
155.  the  golden  ripple.     Whut  figure? 

158.  has  run.     Dispose  of  this  verb. 

159.  is  rolled  up  like  a  scroll.     What  figure  ?    Parse  like  and  scrofl 
161.  a'J  who  tef  it.     Give  the  person  of  afl  and  who. 


H.  WILLIAM   MAKEPEACE   THACKERAY, 

1811-1863. 

One  of  the  greatest  of  English  novelists  was  William 
Makepeace  Thackeray,  who  was  born  at  Calcutta  in 
1811,  his  fatlier  ])eing  an  English  otiicial  stationed  in 
India.  When  yet  a  small  child  the  future  novelist  wa8 
sent  to  England,  that  he  might  be  educated.  After  a 
careful  training  in  the  old  Charter-House  School,  he  was 
admitted  to  the  University  of  Cambridge,  but  he  did  not 
remain  long  enough  to  take  his  degree.  His  father  hav- 
ing died  and  left  liim  a  large  fortune,  Thackeray  resolved 
to  become  an  artist,  and  therefore  spent  four  or  five 
years  in  studying  the  masterpieces  in  the  art-galleries 
of  France,  Italy,  and  Germany.  On  returning  to  Lon- 
don he  continued  liis  art-studies.  But  having  a  distrust 
of  his  abilities  as  an  artist,  and  having  lost  a  large  })art 
of  his  fortune,  he  was  compelled  to  adopt  literature  as 
his  j)rofession. 

Under  the  signatures  "  Micliael  Angelo  Titmarsh " 
and  "  George  Fitzboodle,  Esq.,"  he  contributed  a  num- 
ber of  articles — poetry,  criticism,  and  fiction — to  Frnser^s 
Magazine.  Among  the  cliief  was  a  stor}-,  li<irry  Lynduiiy 
which  gave  a  humorous  account  of  tlic  adventures  of  au 
Irish  fortune-hunter. 

Thackeray's  next  venture  was  in  writing  sketches  for 
Punch.  To  this  periodical  he  contributed  Tlie  Snnh  Pa- 
pers and  Jeames's  Diary,  the  wit  of  which  has  rarely  been 
equaled.  \\'hether  the  author  meant  it  or  not,  the  latter 
is  said  to  have  been  an  excellent  caricature  on  the  j)ho- 
netic  system  of  spelling. 

2!)2 


WILL  FA  M  MAKEPEACE  THACKERAY.         253 

The  foundation  of  Thackeray's  success  as  a  novelist 
was  laid  by  his  first  book  of  fiction,  Vanity  Fair,  which 
appeared  in  1846.  This  production,  unlike  in  character 
any  preceding  English  novel,  at  once  became  a  favorite 
and  gave  its  author  an  honorable  place  among  the  writer-: 
of  English  fiction.  Its  two  chief  characters  are  Becky 
Sharp,  a  governess,  who  personifies  intellect  without 
virtue,  and  Amelia  Sedley,  who  represents  virtue  with- 
out intellect.  The  characters  throughout  are  admirably 
drawn,  and  the  book  shows  the  author  to  have  been  not 
only  a  keen  satirist,  but  also  a  novelist  of  great  excel- 
lence. 

In  1849,  Thackeray  published  a  second  novel,  entitled 
The  History  of  Arthur  Pendennis.  Following  this  came 
The  History  of  Henry  Esmond,  Esq.,  which  by  many  is 
considered  the  author's  best  literary  work.  The  New- 
comes,  Thackeray's  most  popular  novel,  appeared  in 
1855,  and  two  years  later  The  Virginians,  a  continuation 
of  Esmond,  was  published.  This  last  purports  to  be  a 
history  of  the  grandson  of  Esmond. 

The  most  important  of  Thackeray's  other  literary 
work  was  his  editorship  of  the  Cornhill  Magazine  from 
1860  to  1862,  and  his  admirable  lectures  on  The  Four 
Georges  and  The  English  Humorists,  which  were  delivered 
in  both  Great  Britain  and  America,  and  all  of  which 
are  models  of  style  and  criticism.  The  work  of  this 
lamented  author  was  suddenly  brought  to  an  end  by 
his  death  on  the  24th  of  December,  18G3. 

CRITICISM  BY  W.  F.  COLLIER. 

Thackeray's  language  is  fresh  and  idiomatic  English, 
abounding  in  the  better  coinage  from  the  mint  of  slang, 
though  never  descending  to  its  baser  metals.  Words 
that  would  have  shocked  Dr.  Johnson,  and  which  still 


254         STUDIES  IN  ENQLISH  LITERATURE. 

startle  gentlemen  of  the  old  school  hy  their  direct  ex- 
pressiveness, rise  to  his  pen  continually.  And  he  talks 
to  his  readers,  out  of  the  pleasant  page  he  gives  them, 
with  a  playful,  genial  artlessness  which  not  unfrequent- 
ly  changes  to  a  sudden  shower  of  sharp,  satiric  hits. 
That  which  especially  distinguishes  his  works  among 
the  crowd  of  English  novels  that  load  our  shelves  and 
tables  lies  in  his  portrayal  of  human  character  as  it  is. 
Painting  men  and  women  as  he  meets  them  at  a  dinner 
or  watclies  them  in  the  Park,  he  gives  us  no  paragons  of 
perfection,  forms  of  exquisite  beauty  enshrining  minds 
of  unsullied  purity,  or  that  opposite  ideal  so  familiar  to 
the  readers  of  romance ;  but  men  and  women,  with  all 
heir  faults  and  foibles,  with  their  modest  virtues  shrink- 
ing from  exhibition,  or  their  meanness  well  deserving 
the  censor's  lash. 

GEORGE  III. 

Note. — The  following  extract  is  taken  from  Thackeray's  Lectures 
on  the  Four  Georges.  George  III.  was  king  of  England  from  the 
year  17G0  to  the  year  1820.  In  1810  he  became  insane,  and  remain- 
ed 80  mostly  to  the  time  of  his  death. 

We  have  to  glance  over  sixty  3'ears  in  as  many  min- 
utes. To  read  the  mere  catalogue  of  characters  who 
figured  during  that  long  period  would  occupy  our  al- 
lotted time,  and  we  should  have  all  text  and  no  sermon. 
England  has  to  undergo  the  revolt  of  the  American  col- 
onies ;  to  submit  to  defeat  and  separation ;  to  shake 
under  the  volcano  of  the  French  Revolution  ;  to  grapple 


Analysis. — 1.  Give  the  granimatical  constnirtion  of  have  to  (jinnee. 

2,  4.  To  read  ....  sermon.  What  figure?  What  is  the  subject  of 
the  sentence? 

5.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

5-8.  Name  tlie  modifiers  of  has.  Notice  the  peculiar  grammatical 
construction  ninning  through  the  paragni[)h. 


WILLIAM  MAKEPEACE  THACKERAY. 


255 


and  fight  for  the  life  with  her  gigantic  enemy  Napoleon; 
to  gasp  and  rally  after  that  tremendous  struggle.  The 
old  society,  with  its  courtly  splendors,  has  to  pass  away ;  10 
generations  of  statesmen  to  rise  and  disappear;  Pitt  to 
follow  Chatham  to  the  tomb;  the  memory  of  Rodney 
and  Wolfe  to  be  superseded  by  Nelson's  and  Welling- 
ton's glory  ;  the  old  poets  who  unite  us  to  Queen  Anne's 
time  to  sink  into  their  graves ;  Johnson  to  die,  and  Scott  15 
and  Byron  to  arise ;  Garrick  to  delight  the  world  Avith 
his  dazzling  dramatic  genius ;  and  Kean  to  leap  on  the 
stage  and  take  possession  of  the  astonished  theatre. 
Steam  has  to  be  invented ;  kings  to  be  beheaded,  ban- 
ished, deposed,  restored ;  Napoleon  to  be  but  an  episode,  20 
and  George  III.  is  to  be  alive  through  all  these  varied 
changes,  to  accompany  his  people  through  all  these 
revolutions  of  thought,  government,  society — to  survive 
out  of  the  old  world  into  ours. 

His  mother's  bigotry  and  hatred  George  inherited  with  25 
the  courageous  obstinacy  of  his  own  race ;  but  he  was 
a  firm  believer  where  his  fathers  had  been  free-thinkers, 
and  a  true  and  fond  supporter  of  the  Church  of  which 


12 


NOTKS. — 11.  Pitt.  This  was  Sir 
William  Pitt  the  younger, 
an  English  statesman. 

Chatham.  This  was  "Wil- 
liam Pitt  the  elder,  the 
first  earl  of  Chatham.  He 
was  the  father  of  Sir  Wil- 
liam Pitt  the  yonnger. 

Rodney  was  an  admiral  of 
the  English  navy. 


13.  Wolfe  was  an  English  gen- 
eral who  was  killed  in  the 
battle  of  Quebec,  Canada, 
in  1759. 

Nelson  was  a  celebrated  Eng- 
lish admiral. 

Wellington.  This  was  Ar- 
thur, duke  of  Wellington, 
an  English  general  and 
statesman. 


Analysis. — 14.  What  poets  belonged  to  Queen  Anne's  tinre? 
15-18.  Who  were  Johnson,  Scott,  Byron,  Garrick,  Kean  f 
20.  Wliat  is  the  meaning  of  episode  as  here  used  ? 
25,  26.  Ilia  ....  race.     Reconstruct  the  sentence. 


256       srjrDiES  tn  enolisu  literature. 

he  was  the  titular  defender.     Like  oilier  dull  men,  the 
king  was  all  his  life  suspicious  of  superior  people.     He  30 
did  not  like  P'ox  ;  he  did  not  like  Reynolds ;  he  did  not 
like  Nelson,  Chatham,  Burke:  he  was  testy  at  the  idea 
of  nil  innovations,  and  suspicious  of  all  innovators.    He 
loved    mediocrities:    Benjamin    West   was   his   favorite 
painter  ;  Beattic  was  his  poet.     The  king  lamented,  not  35 
without  pathos,  in  his  after  life,  that  his  education  had 
been  reglected.     He  was  a  dull  lad,  brought  up  by  nar- 
row-minded i)eople.    The  cleverest  tutors  in  the  world 
could  have  done  little  probably  to  expand  that  small 
intellect,  though  they  might  have  improved  his  tastes  40 
and  taught  his  perceptions  some  generosity. 

George  married  the  Princess  Charlotte  of  Mccklen- 
burg-Strelitz,  and  for  years  they  led  the  happiest,  sim- 
plest lives,  sure,  ever  led  by  married  couple.  It  is  said 
the  king  winced  when  he  first  saw  his  homely  little  45 
bride ;  but,  however  that  may  be,  he  was  a  true  and 
faithful  husband  to  her,  as  she  was  a  faithful  and  loving 
wife.  They  had  the  simplest  pleasures,  the  very  mildest 
and  simplest — little  country-dances,  to  which  a  dozen 
couple  were  invited,  and  where  the  honest  king  would  50 
stand  up  and  dance  for  three  hours  at  a  time  to  one 
tune ;   after  which  delicious  excitement  they  would  go 

Anai-vris. — 29.  What  is  the  meaning  of  titular  defender  f 

dull  men.     What  fi<,'ure? 
30-33.  Wliat  is  jiaincil  by  the  rei^litiou  of  did  not  lilcef 

31.  Who  were  For  and  Reynolds  f 

32.  Who  was  Burke  f 

Wliat  is  tlie  meaning  of  te.^lyf 
87.  What  figures  in  the  line? 

44.  Is  aure  an  ailjet.tive  or  an  adverb? 

45.  Is  hnmrhj  used  here  with  its  former  or  its  present  significatioa  7 
4y.  Give  the  meaning  of  simpIrM  as  UHcd  here. 

60.  drive  the  meaning  of  honest. 
52.  Ifl  delicious  a  good  word  here? 


WILLIAM  MAKEPEACE  THACKERAY.         257 

to  bed  without  any  supper  (the  court-people  grumbling 
sadly  at  the  absence  of  supper),  and  get  up  quite  early 
the  next  morning,  and  perhaps  the  next  night  have  an-  65 
other  dance ;  or  the  queen  would  play  on  the  spinnet 
— she  played  pretty  well,  Haydn  said — or  the  king 
would  read  to  her  a  paper  out  of  the  Spectator,  or  per- 
haps one  of  Ogden's  sermons.  0  Arcadia!  what  a  life 
it  must  have  been  I  60 

The  theatre  was  always  his  delight.  His  bishops  and 
clergy  used  to  attend  it,  thinking  it  no  shame  to  appear 
where  that  good  man  was  seen.  He  is  said  not  to  have 
cared  for  Shakespeare  or  tragedy  much ;  farces  and  pan- 
tomimes were  his  joy;  and  especially  when  the  clown 65 
swallowed  a  carrot  or  a  string  of  sausages  he  would 
laugh  so  outrageously  that  the  lovely  princess  by  his 
side  would  have  to  say,  "  My  gracious  monarch,  do 
compose  yourself."  But  he  continued  to  laugh,  and 
at  the  very  smallest  farces,  as  long  so  his  poor  wits  70 
were  left  him. 

"  George,  be  a  king!"  were  the  words  which  his  mother 
was  for  ever  croaking  in  the  ears  of  her  son ;  and  a  king 
the  simple,  stubborn,  affectionate,  bigoted  man  tried 
to  be.  75 

He  did  his  best,  he  worked  according  to  his  lights : 
what  virtue  he  knew  he  tried  to  practice ;  what  know- 
ledge he  could  master  he  strove  to  acquire.  But,  as 
one  thinks  of  an  office  almost  divine,  performed  by 


Analysis. — 58.  By  whom  was  the  Spectator  founded? 

59.  Arcadia.    A  mountainous  district  in  the  lieart  of  Peloponneeiis. 

63,  64.  He  is  ...  .  much.     Criticise. 

72.  "George,  be  a  king,"  were  the  worrfs.     Parse. 

73.  Is  croaking  a  good  word  as  used  here  ? 
76.  he  worked,  etc.     Explain.     Parse  what. 

78-90.  Rewrite  the  sentence.     Show  what  each  infinitive  phrase 
modi  ties. 

17 


258  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

any  mortal  man — of  any  single  being  pretending  to  80 
control  the  thoughts,  to  direct  the  fiiitli,  to  order  im- 
plicit obedience  of  brother  millions;  to  compel  them 
into  war  at  his  offence  or  quarrel;  to  command,  "In  this 
way  3'ou  shall  trade,  in  this  way  you  j-liall  think;  these 
neighbors  shall  be  your  allies,  whom  you  shall  help —  la 
these  others  your  enemies,  whom  you  shall  slay  at  my 
orders;  in  this  way  you  shall  worshij)  God;" — who  can 
wonder  that,  when  such  a  man  as  George  took  such  an 
office  on  himself,  punishment  and  humiliation  should 
fall  upon  people  and  chief?  90 

Yet  there  is  something  grand  about  his  courage.  The 
battle  of  the  king  with  his  aristocracy  remains  yet  to  be 
told  by  the  historian  who  shall  view  the  reign  of  George 
more  justly  than  the  trumpery  panegyrists  who  wrote 
immediately  after  his  decease.  It  was  he,  with  the  95 
people  to  back  him,  that  made  the  war  with  America ;  it 
was  he  and  the  people  who  refused  justice  to  the  Roman 
Catholics ;  and  on  l)otli  (piestions  he  beat  the  i)atricians. 
He  bribed,  he  bullied,  he  darkly  dissembled  on  occa- 
sion ;  he  exercised  a  slippery  perseverance  and  a  vin- 100 
dictive  resolution,  which  one  almost  admires  as  one 
thinks  his  character  over  His  courage  was  never  to 
be  beat.  It  trampled  North  undei  foot;  it  bent  the 
stiff  neck  of  the  younger  Pitt ;  even  his  illness  never 
conquered  that  indomitable  .^})irit.  As  soon  as  his  brain  108 
was  clear  it  resumed  the  scheme,  only  laid  aside  when 


Analvbis.  — 94.  Give  tlie  nu>:inii)s<  of  Immpn-y  paneqyriKls.  Is  the 
term  used  here  in  a  coiiiplinnMitary  or  n  dispiirntjing  sense? 

98.  What  is  tlie  iiieaninjj;  oi  putru-inmf  Wlial  iH  the  opposit* 
lerm? 

102.  Uiivkn  hia  chnrarfer  nrer.     Siilistitnte  a  better  expression. 

104.  Notice  tlie  nse  of  eren  na  an  enipliatic  mlverb. 

105.  106.  Aj8  6ram  tt'os  c/mr.     What  figure?     Explain. 

106.  it  ...  .  only  laid  aside.     Is  (lie  jKwition  of  only  correct? 


WILLIAM  MAKEPEACE  THACKERAY.         259 

his  reason  left  him :  as  soon  as  his  hands  were  out  of 
the  strait-waistcoat  they  took  up  the  pen  and  the  plan 
which  had  engaged  him  up  to  the  moment  of  his  malady. 
I  believe  it  is  by  persons  believing  themselves  in  the  1  If 
right  that  nine-tenths  of  the  tyranny  of  this  world  has 
been  perj^etrated.  Arguing  on  that  convenient  premise, 
the  dey  of  Algiers  would  cut  off  twenty  heads  of  a  morn- 
ing ;  Father  Dominic  would  burn  a  score  of  Jews  in  the 
presence  of  the  Most  Catholic  king,  and  the  archbishops  115 
of  Toledo  and  Salamanca  sing  Amen.  Protestants  were 
roasted,  Jesuits  hung  and  quartered  at  Smithfield,  and 
witches  burned  at  Salem ;  and  all  by  worthy  people, 
who  believed  they  had  the  best  authority  for  their  ac- 
tions. And  so  with  respect  to  old  George,  even  Ameri- 120 
cans,  whom  he  hated  and  who  conquered  him,  may  give 
him  credit  for  having  quite  honest  reasons  for  oppress- 
ing them. 

Of  little  comfort  were  the  king's  sons  to  the  king.   But 
the  pretty  Amelia  was  his  darling;  and  the  little  maiden,  125 
prattling  and  smiling  in  the  fond  arms  of  that  old  father, 
is  a  sweet  image  to  look  on. 

From  November,  1810,  George  III.  ceased  to  reign. 
All  the  world  knows  the  story  of  his  malady :  all  his- 
tory presents  no  sadder  figure  than  that  of  the  old  man,  130 

Analysis. — 108.  atrait-waiMcmiL    To  what  does  this  refer? 
110,  111.  Name  the  modifier  of  it. 

1 12.  Arguing,  etc.     What  does  this  phrase  modify? 

113,  114.  of  a  morning.     Modernize. 

115.  Who  is  meant  by  the  Most  Catholic  king* 

116.  Parse  sing.     Locate  Toledo  and  Salamanca. 

117.  118.  Locate  Smithfield  and  Salem. 

120,  121.  even  A^nericnns.     Explain  tJie  use  of  even. 

127.  to  look  on.  The  passive  infinitive  is  here  used  with  the  active 
form. 

130-133.  that ....  courts.  Name  the  predicate.  Name  the  modi- 
9er9  of  the  subject. 


260  STUDIES  IN  EyOLISH  LITERATURE. 

blind  ar.d  deprived  of  reason,  wandering  through  the 
rooms  of  his  palace,  addressing  imaginary  parliaments, 
reviewing  fimcied  troops,  holding  ghostly  courts.  I  have 
Been  his  picture  as  it  was  taken  at  this  time  hanging 
in  the  apartment  of  his  daughter,  the  Landgravine  of  135 
Ilesse-Homburg, — amidst  books  and  Windsor  furniture, 
and  a  hundred  fond  reminiscences  of  her  English  home. 
The  poor  old  father  is  represented  in  a  purple  gown, 
his  snowy  beard  falling  over  his  breast — the  star  of  his 
famous  order  still  idly  shining  on  it.  lie  was  not  only  140 
sightless — he  became  utterly  deaf.  All  light,  all  reason, 
all  sound  of  human  voices,  all  the  pleasures  of  this 
world  of  God,  were  taken  from  him.  Some  slight  lucid 
moments  he  had  ;  in  one  of  which,  the  queen,  desiring 
to  see  him,  entered  the  room,  and  found  him  singing  a  145 
hymn  and  accompanying  himself  on  the  harpsichord. 
When  he  had  finished  he  knelt  down  and  prayed  ah)ud 
for  her,  and  then  for  his  family,  and  then  for  the  nation, 
concluding  with  a  prayer  for  himself,  that  it  might  please 
God  to  avert  his  heavy  calamity  from  him,  but  if  not  to  150 
give  hira  resignation  to  submit.  He  then  burst  into 
tears,  and  his  reason  again  fled. 

What  preacher  need  moralize  on  this  story  ?  what 
words  save  the  simplest  are  requisite  to  tell  it?  It  is 
too  terrible  for  tears.  The  thought  of  such  a  misery  156 
smites  me  down  in  submission  before  the  Ruler  of 
tings  and  men,  the  Monarch  Sujjreme  over  empires 
and  republics,  the  inscrutable  Dispenser  of  life,  death, 


Analypis. — 134.  hnnging.      Give  the  grammatical   con.struction. 
Nniiie  the  modiliere  of  hanging. 
143,  140.  I'oint  out  the  figure. 
143,144.  bbcid  nwmentn.     What  figure? 
150.  aveii  friim.     Criticise. 

157.  (tive  grammatic-al  conBtruction  of  Monarch  Supreme. 

158.  Give  grammatical  coiutructlon  of  Dispenser. 


WILLIAM  MAKEPEACE  THACKERAY.         261 

happiness,  victory.  "  0  brothers,"  I  said  to  those  who 
heard  me  first  in  America — "  0  brothers  !  speaking  the  160 
same  dear  mother-tongue, — 0  comrades !  enemies  no 
more,  let  us  take  a  mournful  hand  together  as  we  stand 
by  this  royal  corpse,  and  call  a  truce  to  battle  1  Low  he 
lies  to  whom  the  proudest  used  to  kneel  once,  and  who 
was  cast  lower  than  the  poorest ;  dead,  whom  millions  165 
prayed  for  in  vain.  Driven  off  his  throne ;  buffeted  by 
rude  hands ;  with  his  children  in  revolt ;  the  darling  of 
his  old  age  killed  before  him  untimely,  our  Lear  hangs 
over  her  breathless  lips  and  cries,  '  Cordelia,  Cordelia, 
stay  a  little  1'  170 

'Vex  not  his  ghost — oh,  let  him  pass — he  hates  him 
That  woulil  upon  the  rack  of  this  tough  world 
Stretch  him  out  longer  I' 

Hush,    Strife    and    Quarrel,   over    the    solemn  grave! 
Sound,  Trumpets,  a  mournful  march.     Fall,  Dark  Cur- 178 
tain,  upon  his  pageant,  his  pride,  his  grief,  his  awful 
tragedy  I" 

Analysis. — 159-161.  Name  the  object  of  said. 

160.  speaking,  etc.     What  does  the  phrase  modify? 

161,  162.  Give  grammatical  construction  of  enemies,  no,  and  more 

163.  Dispose  of  the  word  Low. 
Name  tlie  modifiers  of  he. 

164.  used  to  kneel.     Parse. 

165.  dead,  whom  millions,  etc.     Supply  the  ellipsis. 
174.  Point  ont  the  figure  in  this  line. 

175    mnurnfid  march.     What  figure  ? 

Why  is  Curtain  written  with  a  capital  letter  T 


25.  GEORGE   ELIOT, 

1820  (?)-1881. 

"  (jkorge  Eliot  "  is  the  assumed  name  under  whici 
Mrs.  Marian  C.  Lewes  (formerly  Evans)  wrote  some 
of  the  finest  English  novels  of  the  Victorian  Age. 

Miss  Evans  was  born  about  the  year  1820  in  the  north- 
ern part  of  England,  but  of  her  early  life  little  has  ever 
been  made  known  to  the  public.  In  girlhood  she  be- 
came a  resident  of  London,  where  she  pursued  a  rigid 
and  systematic  course  of  study,  which  manifests  itself 
everywhere  in  her  writings  in  a.  breadth  and  strength 
of  thought  characteristic  more  generally  of  the  mascu- 
line mind,  and  tliat  make  her  novels  more  than  the 
relation  of  incident  or  the  mere  delineation  of  character. 

George  Eliot  first  attracted  attention  as  a  writer  by 
Rome  sketches,  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,  which  appeared  in 
Blackwood's  Magazine  in  1857.  Her  next  elFort  was  Adam 
Bede,  one  of  her  most  j)opular  novels,  which  appeared 
in  1859,  and  which  ran  through  five  editions  in  as  many 
months.  In  1859  also  slie  published  The  Mill  on  the  Floss, 
and  in  1861  Silas  Marner.  Her  fourth  novel,  J{nmola, 
which  is  one  of  her  very  best,  was  published  in  1863. 
It  is  an  historical  novel  of  Italian  life,  and  is  probably 
her  most  artistic  work,  though  it  is  less  poj)ular  than 
most  of  her  o*her  writings. 

In  1866  Felix  Holt,  the  Radical,  her  fifth  novel,  was 
issued,  and  this  was  followed  in  1871  ])y  Middleiruirch,  a 
study  of  English  provincial  life,  and  in  1876  by  Daniel 
Derondd,  a  story  of  modern  Englisli  life.     All  of  these 

262 


QEOROE  ELIOT.  263 

hnve  been  popular,  but  Middlemarch  has  met  with  a 
success  and  popularity  almost  unprecedented. 

In  addition  to  her  novels,  on  which  George  Eliot's 
success  and  fame  are  founded,  she  has  written  also  sev- 
eral volumes  of  poems.  The  most  prominent  of  these 
are  a  drama,  The  Spanish  Gyp-iy,  and  Agatha,  a  Poem,  the 
first  of  which  appeared  in  1868,  and  the  second  in  1869. 

A  few  years  before  her  death,  which  occurred  early  in 
1881,  she  became  the  wife  of  the  celebrated  philosophi- 
cal writer,  George  Henry  Lewes,  who  haA-ing  died  she 
married  Mr.  J.  W,  Cross,  a  London  banker,  but  she  died 
within  a  year  after  this  marriage. 

CRITICIS^r  BY  R.  n.  HUTTON. 

The  great  authoress  who  calls  herself  "  George  Eliot " 
is  chiefly  known,  and  no  doubt  deserves  to  be  chiefly 
known,  as  a  novelist,  but  she  is  certainly  much  more 
than  a  novelist  in  the  sense  in  which  that  word  applies 
even  to  writers  of  great  genius — to  Miss  Austen  or  Mr. 
Trollo])e ;  nay,  much  more  than  a  novelist  in  the  sense 
in  which  that  word  applies  to  Miss  Bronte,  or  even  to 
Thackeray ;  though  it  is  of  course  true,  in  relation  to 
all  these  writers,  that,  besides  being  much  more,  she  is 
also  and  necessarily  not  so  much.  What  is  remarkable 
in  George  EHot  is  the  striking  combination  in  her  of 
very  deep  speculative  power  with  a  very  great  and  real- 
istic ".raagination.  It  is  rare  to  find  an  intellect  so  skill- 
ed ir.  analysis  of  the  deepest  psychological  problems,  so 
completely  at  home  in  the  conception  and  delineation 
of  real  characters.  George  Eliot  discusses  the  practical 
influences  acting  on  men  and  women,  I  do  not  say  with 
the  ease  of  Fielding — for  there  is  a  touch  of  carefulness, 
often  of  over-carefulness,  in  all  she  does — but  with  much 
of  his  breadth  and  spaciousness — the  breadth  and  spa- 


264         STUDIES  IN  ENQLISH  LITERATURE. 

ciousness,  one  must  remember,  of  a  man  who  had  seen 
London  life  in  the  capacity  of  a  Loudon  police  magis- 
trate. Nay,  her  imagination  has,  I  do  not  say  of  course 
the  fertility,  but  something  of  the  range  and  the  delight 
in  rich  liistoric  coloring,  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's ;  while  it 
combines  with  it  something  too  of  the  pleasure  in  order- 
ed learning,  and  the  laborious  marshaling  of  the  pic- 
turesque results  of  learning,  whicli  gives  the  flavor  of 
scholastic  pride  to  the  great  genius  of  Milton. 

SAINT  THERESA. 
Note. — The  following  extract  ia  taken  from  George  Eliot's  most 
popular  novel,  Middkmarch. 

Who  that  cares  much  to  know  the  history  of  man, 
and  how  the  mysterious  mixture  behaves  under  the 
varying  experiments  of  time,  has  not  dwelt,  at  least 
briefly,  on  the  life  of  Saint  Theresa,  has  not  smiled  with 
some  gentleness  at  the  thought  of  the  little  girl  walking  5 
forth  one  morning,  hand-in-hand  with  her  still  smaller 
brotlier,  to  go  and  seek  martyrdom  in  the  country  of 
the  Moors  ?  Out  they  toddled  from  rugged  Avila,  wide- 
eyed  and  helpless-looking  as  two  fawns,  but  with  hu- 
man hearts,  already  beating  to  a  national  idea,  until  JO 
domestic  reality  met  them  in  the  shape  of  uncles  and 
turned  them  back  from  their  great  resolve.     That  child- 


Analysis. — 1-8.  What  b  the  modifier  of  Whol     Point  out  the 
predicate  of  the  sentence.     Name  the  ohjects  of  to  know. 
1    Is  nuin  used  in  an  abstract  or  a  concrete  sense? 
3  4.  o^  leaal  briefly.     Dispose  of  at  least  and  briefly. 

6,  6.  tfie  Utile  girl  walking  forth,  etc      la  the  expression  correct? 
kand-in-hand.     Parse.     slM  smalkr.     What  does  still  modify  7 

7,  to  (JO  and  ,seeA.     Is  the  expression  correct? 

8,  9.  Out  they  toddled  from.      What  is  the  p'-eposition  ?     What 
6gure?     What  kind  of  adjectives  are  wdd-eyed  aui  helplesa-looking  f 

8-12,   What  are  the  modilitra  of  llieyf 


GEORGE  ELIOT.  265 

pilgrimage  was  a  fit  beginning.  Tl^ieresa's  passionate, 
ideal  nature  demanded  an  epic  life :  what  were  many- 
volumed  romances  of  chivalry  and  the  social  conquests  15 
oi  a  brilliant  girl  to  her  ?  Her  flame  quickly  burned 
up  that  light  fuel,  and,  fed  from  witliin,  soared  after 
some  illimitable  satisfaction,  some  object  which  would 
never  justify  weariness,  which  would  reconcile  self-de- 
spair with  the  rapturous  consciousness  of  life  beyond  20 
self.  She  found  her  epos  in  tlie  reform  of  a  religious 
order. 

That  Spanish  woman  who  lived  three  hundred  years 
ago   was   certainly   not  the   last   of  her   kind.      Many 
Theresas  have  been  born  who  found  for  themselves  no  25 
epic  life  wherein  there  was  a  constant  unfolding  of  far- 
resonant  action ;  perhaps  only  a  life  of  mistakes,  the  off- 
spring of  a  certain  spiritual  grandeur  ill  matched  with 
the  meanness  of  opportunity,  perhaps  a  tragic  failure 
which  found  no  sacred  poet  and  sank  unwept  into  ob-  ^ 
livion.     With  dim  lights  and  tangled  circumstance  they 
tried  to  shape  their  thought  and  deed  in  noble  agree- 
ment; but,  after  all,  to  common  eyes  their  struggles 
seemed  mere  inconsistency  and  formlessness;  for  these 
later-born  Tlieresas  were  helped  by  no  coherent  socia?  "W 
faith  and  order  which  could  perform  the  function  of 


Analysis. — 14.  epic  life.     AVhat  is  meant  ? 

16.  What  is  the  )ir()j)er  position  of  the  j>hra.se  to  her  f 

17.  Parse  fed  and  within. 

1&-22.  Her  flame  ....  order.     Point  out  figures. 

21.  epna.    An  epic  poem  or  its  subject. 

23,  24.  Dispose  of  lived  and  ago.     Substitute  a  word  for  kind, 

26    Give  an  equivalent  for  wherein. 

27.  28,  Parse  offspring, 

3C    Dispose  of  unwept. 

33   after  all.    Give  full  clause  of  which  this  is  an  abridgment. 

34.  Give  grammatical  constraction  of  inconsistency. 


266  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH   LITERATURE. 

knowledge  for  the  ardently  willing  soul.     Their  ardor 
alternated  between   a  vague    ideal    and   the  commoD 
yearning  of  womanhood ;   so  that  the  one  was  disap- 
proved as  extravagance,  and  the  other  condemned  as  a  40 
lapse. 

Some  have  felt  that  these  blundering  lives  are  due  to 
llie  inconvenient  indefiniteness  with  which  the  Supreme 
Power  has  fashioned  the  natures  of  women ;  if  there 
were  one  level  of  feminine  incompetence  as  strict  as  the  45 
ability  to  count  three  and  no  more,  the  social  lot  of  wo- 
men might  be  treated  with  scientific  certitude.  Mean- 
while, the  indefiniteness  remains,  and  the  limits  of 
variation  are  really  much  wider  than  any  one  would 
imagine  frorri  the  sameness  of  a  woman's  coiffure  and  50 
the  favorite  love-stories  in  prose  and  verse.  Here  and 
there  a  cygnet  is  reared  uneasily  among  the  ducklings 
in  the  brown  pond,  and  never  finds  the  li\ang  stream  in 
fellowship  with  his  own  oary-footed  kind.  Here  and 
there  is  born  a  Saint  Theresa,  foundress  of  nothing,  65 
whose  lo\'ing  heart-beats  and  sobs  after  an  unattained 
goodness  tremljle  off,  and  are  dispersed  among  hin- 
drances, instead  of  centring  in  some  long  recognizable 
deed.  

Analysis. — 40.  Parse  as. 

47,  48.  Give  a  Bubstinile  for  certitude.     Parse  MeantohiU. 

63.  the  living  Htr earn.     AVhai  fifjure? 

64.  Wha   is  the  meaning  of  oary-fooUd  f 


26.  THOMAS   CARLYLE, 

1795-1881. 

Thomas  Carlyle,  a  writer  whose  work  was  of  such  a 
Vnriety  of  character  that  he  might  be  styled  historian, 
translator,  biographer,  and  essayist  in  one,  was  born  in 
the  southern  part  of  Scotland,  in  the  village  of  Eccle- 
fechan,  Annandale,  on  the  4th  of  Decem])er,  1795.  His 
father  was  a  stone-mason  and  farmer,  and  his  mother 
was  also  of  the  humbler  rank,  but  both  were  persons  of 
exceptional  character  and  sterling  piety.  Thomas  was 
the  oldest  of  nine  children,  all  of  whom  gratefully  re- 
vered both  father  and  mother. 

Carlyle's  early  education  was  acquired  in  the  gram- 
mar-school at  Annan,  fro+n  which  he  was  sent  to  the 
University  at  Edinburgh  when  fourteen  years  of  age. 
Here  he  took  special  delight  in  the  study  of  mathe- 
matics and  natural  science.  In  May,  1814,  he  finished 
his  college  career,  and  the  post  of  mathematical  teacher 
in  the  academy  at  Annan  being  vacant,  Carlyle  entered 
the  competitive  examination  and  was  successful  in  ob- 
taining the  j)lace.  Two  years  later  he  was  called  to  a 
similar  position  in  the  academy  at  Kirkcaldy,  where  the 
friendship  between  him  and  Edward  Irving,  the  head- 
master, which  was  begun  at  Annan  when  sclioolboys 
and  continued  at  the  University,  was  renewed,  to  be 
kept  glowing  for  a  lifetime.  Here  they  "talked  and 
wrought  and  thought"  together.  For  two  years  they 
pursued  their  task  and  enforced  their  discipline,  so  vig- 
orously, it  is  said,  as  to  awaken  the  indignation  of  the 
neighborhood,  and    then   quitted   the   place   for   Edin 

267 


268         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

burgh.  Carlyle  now  abandoned  teaching,  and  eoon 
after  also  gave  up  his  original  intention  of  entering  the 
ministry.  On  his  return  to  Edinburgh  he  subjected 
himself  to  a  rigid  course  of  reading  in  the  University 
library,  and  soon  began  preparing  a  scries  of  short  bio- 
graphical articles  for  Brewster's  Edinburyh  C'ydopxdia. 
ITe  also  contributed  to  the  Edinburgh  Review  about  this 
time,  and  in  1822  undertook  the  translation  of  Legen- 
dre's  Geometry^  prelixing  an  original  and  thoughtful 
essay  on  "  Proportion." 

His  next  literary  work  was  the  Life  of  Schiller,  which 
was  of  such  excellence  that  it  was  immediately  trans- 
lated into  German,  with  a  })reface  by  the  German  poet 
Goethe.  Carlyle  also  about  this  time  (1824)  issued 
anonymously  a  translation  of  Goethe's  Wilhelm  Meviler'a 
Aj^prenticeship,  which  was  highly  praised  by  the  critics 
of  the  day. 

Two  years  later  (in  1826)  he  was  married  to  an  es- 
timable lady,  Miss  Jane  Welsh,  the  daughter  of  Dr. 
Welsh  of  Haddington,  who,  it  has  been  said,  was  ad- 
mirably fitted  to  be  the  wife  of  a  man  of  genius.  Car- 
lyle says  of  her  on  her  tombstone,  "  For  forty  years  she 
was  the  true  and  loving  helpmate  of  her  husband,  and 
by  act  and  word  unweariedly  forwarded  him  as.  none 
else  could  in  all  of  worthy  tliat  he  did  or  attempted." 
The  first  two  years  of  liis  married  life  wore  spent  in 
Edinburgh,  where  he  finished  a  series  of  German  trans- 
lations, which  he  issued  under  tlie  title  Gcrmnn  Romance 
in  1827.  They  then  removed  to  a  little  farm  near  Dum- 
fries, owned  by  Mrs.  Carlyle,  and  known  as  Craigenput- 
toch,  where  they  resided  for  six  years,  and  where  some 
of  Carlyle's  best  work  was  done.  It  was  while  living 
here  that  he  wrote  many  of  his  best  essays,  which  were 
published  in  the  leading  magazines  of  the  day.  Mr 
Carlyle's  first  great  book  was  Sartor  Rcsarlm,  now  recog- 


THOMAS  CARLYLB.  269 

nized  as  a  classic.  After  having  been  rejected  by  a  num- 
ber of  publishers,  it  was  at  length  issued  in  1834.  His 
History  of  the  French  Revolution  followed  in  1837,  and  he 
was  now  on  the  high  road  to  fame.  The  best  of  his 
other  works,  which  followed  in  succession,  are  Chartism, 
Past  and  Present,  Hero-  Worship  (originally  delivered  as 
lectures)  3Iiscellaneons  Essays,  CromweWs  Letters  and 
Speeches,  Latter-Day  Pamphlets,  Life  of  John  Sterling,  and, 
the  crowning  eifort  of  his  literary  work,  The  Life  of 
Frederick  the  Great,  completed  in  1865.  Shortly  after 
the  completion  of  this  work  he  was  made  lord  rector 
of  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  and  he  delivered  his 
installation  address  on  April  2,  1866.  But  his  great 
success  was  speedily  followed  by  a  great  calamity  in 
the  death  of  his  wife,  on  the  21st  of  the  same  month. 
Her  husband,  surviving  her  fifteen  years,  died  on  the 
morning  of  February  5,  1881. 

CRITICISM  BY  LOWELL. 

Carlyle's  historical  compositions  are  wonderful  prose- 
poems,  full  of  picture,  incident,  humor,  and  character, 
where  we  grow  familiar  with  his  conception  of  certain 
leading  personages,  and  even  of  subordinate  ones  if  they 
are  necessary  to  the  scene,  so  that  they  come  out  living 
upon  the  stage  from  the  dreary  limbo  of  names ;  but 
this  is  no  more  history  than  the  historical  plays  of 
Shakespeare.  There  is  nothing  in  imaginative  litera- 
ture superior  in  its  own  way  to  the  episode  of  Voltaire 
in  the  Life  of  Frederick  the  Great.  It  is  delicious  :n 
humor,  masterly  in  minute  characterization.  .  .  . 

With  the  gift  of  song,  Carlyle  would  have  been  the 
greatest  of  epic  poets  since  Homer.  Without  it  to 
modulate  and  harmonize  and  bring  parts  into  their 
proper  relation,  he  is  the  most  amorphous  of  humor- 


270  STUDIES  IN  ENQLISH  LITERATURE. 

ists,  tlie  most  shining  avatar  of  whim,  the  world  has 

■ever  seen But,  with  all  deductions,  he  remains 

the  jirofoundest  critic  and  the  most  dramatic  imaginar 
tion  of  modern  times 


ROBERT  BURNS 

Note. — The  foUowiug  extract  is  taken  from  Carlyle's  Essay  on 
Bums. 

Properly  speaking,  there  is  but  one  era  in  the  life  of 
Burns,  and  that  the  earliest.  We  have  not  youth  and 
manhood,  but  only  youth  ;  for  to  the  end  we  discern  no 
decisive  change  in  the  complexion  of  his  character :  in 
his  thirty-seventh  year  he  is  still,  as  it  were,  in  youth.  5 
AVith  all  that  resoluteness  of  judgment,  that  penetrating 
insight,  and  singular  maturity  of  intellectual  power  ex- 
hibited in  his  writings,  he  never  attains  to  any  clearness 
regarding  himself:  to  the  last  he  never  ascertains  his 
peculiar  aim,  even  with  such  distinctness  as  is  common  10 
among  ordinary  men,  and  therefore  never  can  pursue  it 
with  that  singleness  of  will  which  ensures  success  and 
some  contentment  to  such  men.  To  tlie  last  he  wavers 
between  two  purposes :  glorying  in  his  talent,  like  a  true 
poet,  he  yet  cannot  consent  to  make  this  his  chief  and  15 
sole  glory,  and  to  follow  it  as  the  one  thing  needful, 
through  poverty  or  riches,  through  good  or  evil  report. 


AyALVSis. — 1.  Give  the  grammatical  conBtniction  of  epeahing. 
I'arse  there  aud  bat, 
3.  Parse  oiily. 

5.  as  U  were.     Dispose  of  these  won  la. 

6,  7.  vnth  ....  pov>er.     What  kind  of  adjunct  ? 

10.  Give  the  gramniatiral  construction  of  evim. 

11.  never  can  pursue.     Slmidd  there  not  be  a  Hiihject  hiij  pUe«l7 
14,  lo.  like  a  <cue  poet.     What  figure? 

17.  Sujijily  the  ellipsia. 


THOMAS  CARLYLE.  271 

Another  far  meaner  ambition  still  clings  to  him :   he 
must  dream  and  struggle  about  a  certain  "  rock  of  in- 
dependence," which,  natural  and  even  admirable  as  it  20 
might  be,  was  still  but  a  warring  with  the  world  on  the 
comparatively  insignificant  ground  of  his  being  more  or 
less  completely  supplied  with  money  than  others,  of  his 
etanding  at  a  higher  or  at  a  lower  altitude  in  general 
estimation  than  others.     For  the  world  still  appears  to  25 
him,  as  to  the  young,  in  borrowed  colors :  he  expects 
from  it  what  it  cannot  give  to  any  man — seeks  for  con- 
tentment, not  within  himself,  in  action  and  wise  effort, 
but  from  without,  in  the  kindness  of  circumstances.  In 
love,  friendship,  honor,  pecuniary  ease.     He  would  De  30 
happy,  not  actively  and  in  himself,  but  passively,  and 
from  some  ideal  cornucopia  of  enjoyments  not  earned 
by  his  own  labor,  but  showered  on  him  by  the  benef- 
icence of  destiny.     Thus,  like  a  young  man,  he  cannot 
steady  himself  for  any  fixed  or  systematic  pursuit,  but  35 
swerves  to  and  fro,  between  })assionate  hope   and   re- 
morseless disappointment :  rushing  onward  with  a  deep, 
tempestuous  force,  he  surmounts  or  breaks  asunder  many 
a  barrier — travels,  nay  advances  far,  but,  advancing  only 
under  uncertain  guidance,  is  ever  and  anon  turned  from  40 
his  path,  and  to  the  last  cannot  reach  the  only  true  hap- 
piness of  a  man — that  of  clear,  decided  activity  in  the 


Analysts. — 18-25.  he  viust  dream  ....  than  ot'iers.     Thig  in  all 
ir  apposition  with  what?     Parse  others  in  line  2-'i 

26.  Sup]ily  the  ellipsis  in  this  line. 

27.  Parse  what. 
29.  Parse  ivithout. 

32.  ideal  cornucopia.     Wliat  is  meant? 

33.  shmi>*red  on  him,  etc.     What  figure? 
36    Dispose  of  to  and  fro. 

38.  tempestuous  force.     What  figure? 

39.  Parse  nay. 


272  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

sphere  for  which  by  nature  and  circumstances  he  lias 
been  fitted  and  appointed. 

We  do  not  say  these  things  in  dispraise  of  Burns    45 
nay,  perhaps,  they  but  interest  us  the  more  in  his  favor. 
Tliis  blessing  is  not  given  soonest  to  the  best,  but  rather 
it  is  often  the  greatest  minds  that  are  latest  in  obtaining 
it ;  for  where  most  is  to  be  developed,  most  time  may 
be  re(iuired  to  develop  it.    A  complex  condition  had  60 
been  assigned  him  from  without — as  complex  a  condi- 
tion from  within :  "  no  pre-established  harmony  "  exist- 
ed between  the  clay  soil  of  Mossgiel  and  the  empyrean 
soul  of  Robert  Burns :  it  was  not  wonderful,  therefore, 
that  the  adjustment  between  them  should  have  been  55 
long  postponed,  and  his  arm  long  cumbered  and  his 
sight  confused  in  so  vast  and  discordant  an  economy  as 
he  had  been  appointed  steward  over.     Byron  was,  at  his 
death,  but  a  year  younger  than  Burns,  and  through  life, 
as  it  miglit  have  appeared,  far  more  simply  situated,  yet  60 
in  him,  too,  we  can  trace  no  such  adjustment,  no  such 
moral  manhood,  but  at  best,  and  only  a  little  before  his 
end,  the  beginning  of  what  seemed  such. 

By  mucli  the  most  striking  incident  in  Burns's  life  is 
his  journey  to  Edinburgh,  but  perhaps  a  still  more  im-  65 
portant  one  is  his  residence  at  Irvine,  so  early  as  in  his 


Analysis. — 47-49.  TTiia  hkmng obtaining  it.    Criticise  the 

clause. 

49.  Give  the  grammatical  conatniction  of  most  and  moat. 

51.  52.  Supply  llie  ellipsis. 

53.  Mossgiel,  a  village  where  Burns  in  his  youth  lai»ored  on  the 
(arm. 

53,  54.  Point  out  the  figure  in  these  lines. 

58.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  over. 

60.  far  more  nimply  situated.     Parse  these  words. 

61.  Parse  too. 
64-67.  Criticise. 


THOMAS  CABLYLB.  27S 

twenty-third  year.  Hitherto  his  life  had  been  poor  and 
toilworn,  but  otherwise  not  ungenial,  and,  with  all  its 
distresses,  by  no  means  unha})py.  In  his  parentage,  de- 
ducting outward  circumstances,  he  had  every  reason  to  70 
reckon  himself  fortunate.  His  father  was  a  man  of 
thouglitliil,  intense,  earnest  character,  as  the  best  of  our 
peasants  are — valuing  knowledge,  possessing  some,  and, 
what  is  far  better  and  rarer,  open-minded  for  more — a 
man  with  a  keen  insight  and  devout  heart :  reverent  75 
toward  God,  friendly  therefore  at  once,  and  fearless, 
toward  all  that  God  has  made :  in  one  word,  though 
but  a  hard-handed  peasant,  a  com})lete  and  fully  un- 
folded man.  Such  a  father  is  seldom  found  in  any  rank 
in  society,  and  was  worth  descending  far  in  society  to  80 
8eek.  Unfortunately,  he  was  very  poor:  had  he  been 
even  a  little  richer,  almost  ever  so  little,  the  whole  might 
have  issued  far  otherAvise.  Mighty  events  turn  on  a 
Btraw :  the  crossing  of  a  brook  decides  the  conquest  of 
the  world.     Had  this  William  Burns's  small  seven  acres  86 

Analysis. — 67-69.  Parse  jyoor,  toilworn,  uncjenial,  and  unhappy. 
69-71.  Is  this  a  periodic  or  a  loose  sentence?     Rewrite  it. 

72.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  as  and  best. 

73.  Parse  valuimj  and  possessing. 

75.  76.  Parse  reverent,  friendly,  and  therefore. 

76.  Name  the  modifiera  of  fearless. 

77.  in  one  word.     Parse. 

78.  Give  tlie  grammatical  construction  of  btU. 
77,  78.  Transpose  and  supply  the  ellipsis. 
80.  Parse  worth  anil  far. 

8C,  81.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  to  seek. 
81    had  he  been.     Give  the  mode  of  the  verb. 
82.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  cien. 

Dispose  of  (dniost  ei>er  so  little. 
82,  83.  the  whole  ....  otherwise.     What  is  the  meaning?    Parse /or 
•nd  otherwise. 

83-85.  Point  out  the  figures  in  these  lines. 
85    Hwi  this,  etc.     Parse  the  verb. 
18 


274         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LTTERArURE. 

of  nursery-ground  anywise  prospered,  ihe  boy  Robert 
had  been  sent  to  school — had  struggled  forward,  as  so 
many  weaker  men  do,  to  some  university — come  forth 
not  as  a  rustic  wonder,  but  as  a  regular,  well-trained 
intellectual  workman,  and  changed  the  whole  course  90 
of  British  literature ;  for  it  lay  in  him  to  have  done 
this  1  But  the  nursery  did  not  prosper :  poverty  sank 
his  wliole  family  below  the  help  of  even  our  cheap 
school  83'stem.  Burns  remained  a  hard-worked  plow- 
boy,  and  British  literature  took  its  own  course.  Never-  95 
theless,  even  in  this  rugged  scene,  there  is  much  to  nour- 
ish him.  If  he  drudges,  it  is  with  his  brother,  and  for 
his  father  and  mother,  whom  he  loves  and  would  fain 
shield  from  want.  .  Wisdom  is  not  banished  from  their 
poor  hearth,  nor  the  balm  of  natural  feeling:  the  solemn  100 
words.  Let  us  worship  God,  are  heard  there  from  a  "priest- 
like father:"  if  threatenings  of  unjust  men  throw  mother 
and  children  into  tears,  these  are  tears  not  of  grief  only, 
but  of  holiest  affection:  every  heart  in  that  humble 
group  feels  itself  the  closer  knit  to  every  other:  in  their  105 
hard  warfare  they  are  there  together,  a  "little  band  of 
brethren."  Neither  are  such  tears,  and  the  tleep  beauty 
that  dwells  in  them,  their  only  portion.    Light  visits  the 


Analysis. — 87-91.  Ciive  the  imxle  of  each  of  the  verbs. 
89.  Dispose  of  the  wonl  vonder. 

91,  92.  for  it  lay  in  him  to  have  done  thin.     Criticise. 

92,  93.  poverty  sank  his  whole  Javiily,     Criticise. 
9;j.  Parrie  even. 

M.  I'ai-He  plowboy. 

101,  Lei  ux  worship  Ood.     Hive  the  granitnatical  construction. 

102,  103.  Point  ont  the  figure. 

103,  104.  these  are  tears  ....  affedionx.     Analyze  the  Rentence. 
105.  feel*  U.<iel/  the  closer  knit.     (Jive  the  grammatical  conHtnictioD 

of  each  of  these  words. 

100,  107.  Diisi)ose  of  the  words  "Hide  hand  of  brtthrm." 
108,  J 09.  Name  the  figure  in  these  lineH. 


THOMAS  CARLTLE.  275 

heart  as  it  does  the  eyes  of  all  living:  there  is  a  force, 
too,  in  this  youth,  that  enables  him  to  trample  an  mis- 1 10 
fortune — nay,  to  bind  it  under  his  feet  to  make  him 
sport.     For  a  bold,  warm,  buoyant  humor  of  character 
has  been  given  him  ;  and  so  the  thick-coming  shapes  of 
evil  are  welcomed  with  a  gay,  friendly  irony,  and  in 
their  closest  pressure  he  bates  no  jot  of  heart  or  hope.  115 
Vague  yearnings  of  ambition  fail  not  as  he  grows  up ; 
dreamy  fancies  hang  like  cloud-cities  around  him  ;  the 
curtain  of  existence  is  slowly  rising  in  many-colored 
splendor  and  gloom :  and  the  auroral  light  of  first  love 
is  gilding  his  horizon,  and  the  music  of  song  is  on  his  120 
path;  and  so  he  walks 

"  In  glory  and  in  joy, 
Behind  his  plow,  upon  the  mouutain-side." 

We  know,  from  the  best  evidence,  that  up  to  this  date 
Burns  was  happy  — nay,  that  he  was  the  gayest,  bright- 125 
est,  most  fantastic,  fascinating  being  to  be  found  in  the 
world — more  so  even  than  he  ever  afterward  appeared. 
But  now,  at  this  early  age,  he  quits  the  paternal  roof, 
goes  forth  into  looser,  louder,  more  exciting  society,  and 
becomes  initiated  in  those  dissipations,  those  vices,  130 
which  a  certain  class  of  philosophers  have  asserted  to 


Analysis. — 109.  Name  the  modifiers  of  force. 

112.  What  is  the  force  of  Forf 

113.  Give  the  grammatical  con-stmction  of  so. 

115.  lie  bales  no  jot.     What  is  the  meaning? 

116.  grows  up.     Parse. 

116,117.  Point  out  the  figure.    Give  the  grammatical  construction 
of  cloud-cities. 

119-121.  the  auroral  light .  ...  his  path.     Explain  the  figures. 
124.  Explain  the  use  and  construction  of  up  to. 

126.  Should  not  the  word  viost  be  placed  before  fascinating  t 

127.  Dispose  of  more  so  ei<en. 


276  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

be  a  natural  preparative  for  enterinj];  on  active  life — a 
kind  of  mud-bath,  in  which  the  youtli  is,  as  it  were, 
necessitated  to  steep,  and,  we  suppose,  cleanse  himseh', 
before  the  real  toga  of  manhood  can  be  laid  on  him.  135 
We  shall  not  dispute  much  with  this  clnss  of  philoso- 
phers :  we  hope  tliey  are  mistaken,  for  sin  and  remorse 
Bo  easily  beset  us  at  all  stages  of  life,  and  are  always 
such  indifferent  compan}',  that  it  seems  liard  we  should, 
at  any  stage,  be  forced  and  foted  not  onl}--  to  meet,  but  140 
to  yield  to  them,  and  even  serve  for  a  term  in  their  lep- 
rous armada.  We  hope  it  is  not  so.  Clear  we  are,  at  aL 
events,  it  cannot  be  the  training  one  receives  in  this  ser- 
vice, but  only  our  determining  to  desert  from  it,  that  fits 
us  for  true  manly  action.  We  become  men  not  after  we  145 
have  been  dissipated,  and  disappointed  in  the  chase  of 
false  pleasure,  but  after  we  have  ascertained,  in  any  way, 
what  impassable  barriers  hem  us  in  through  this  life ; 
how  mad  it  is  to  hope  for  contentment  to  our  infinite 
soul  from  the  gifts  of  this  extremely  finite  world — that  a  150 
man  must  be  sufficient  for  himself,  and  that  "  for  suffer- 
ing and  enduring  there  is  no  remedy  but  striving  and 
doing."  Manhood  begins  when  we  have  in  any  way 
made  truce  with  necessity — begins,  at  all  events,  when 

Analysis. — 1.S2, 133.  a  kind  of  mud-bath.  To  what  does  this  refer? 

133.  Dis[)03e  of  as  it  were. 

135.  Point  out  tlie  figure  in  this  line. 

139.  that  it  seevia  hard  we  should,  etc.     Bupply  tlie  ellipsis. 

]  11,  142.  (rive  the  syntax  of  ex<en.     What  figure  in  th>i8e  lines? 

14'J.    Wc  hope  it  is  not  so.     Analyze. 

142,143.  at  all  events.     Give  the  p:ram mat ic-al  construction. 

145.    We  become  men.     (iive  the  case  of  men. 

148.  hem  us  in.     Dispose  of  these  words. 

149.  What  words  are  exi)laiLitory  of  it  t    Name  the  modifiers  of  to 
kope.     "What  are  the  modifiers  of  contentment  f 

161-153.  ''for  suffering  ....  doing."     Analyze. 
153.  Name  tlic  suhjcci  and  the  modifiers  of  begins. 


THOMAS  CARLYLE.  277 

we  Lave  sui-iendered  to  necessity,  as  the  irost  part  only  15& 
do,  but  begins  joyfully  and  hopefully  only  when  we 
have  reconciled  ourselves  to  necessity;  and  thus,  in 
reality,  triumphed  over  it,  and  felt  that  in  necessity  we 
are  free.  Surely  such  lessons  as  this  last,  which  in  one 
shape  or  other  is  the  grand  lesson  for  every  mortal  man,  160 
are  better  learned  from  the  lips  of  a  devout  mother,  in 
the  looks  and  actions  of  a  devout  father,  while  the  heart 
is  yet  soft  and  pliant,  than  in  collision  with  the  sharp 
adamant  of  fate,  attracting  us  to  shipwreck  us,  when  the 
heart  is  grown  hard,  and  may  be  broken  before  it  will  165 
become  contrite !  Had  Burns  continued  to  learn  this, 
as  he  was  already  learning  it,  in  his  father's  cottage,  he 
would  have  learned  it  full}',  which  he  never  did,  and 
been  saved  many  a  lasting  aberration,  many  a  bitter 
hour  and  year  of  remorseful  sorrow.  170 


Analysis. — 163,  164.  Name  the  figure  in  these  lines, 

166.  Had  Bums  continued,  etc.    What  is  the  mode  of  the  verb? 

168,  Name  the  antecedent  of  which. 

169.  been  saved.     Name  the  mode  and  the  t«Qse. 


27.  JAMES  ANTHONY  FROUDE, 

1818-1804. 

James  Anthony  Froude,  one  of  England's  greatest 
historians,  and  the  son  of  Dr.  Froude,  archdeacon  of 
Totness,  was  born  in  Devonshire  in  1818.  He  was  edu- 
cated at  Westminster  and  at  Oriel  College,  Oxford.  Af- 
ter having  won  the  Chancellor's  Prize  in  1842  for  an 
English  essay,  he  became  a  Fellow  of  Exeter  College. 

Froude  first  appeared  as  an  author  in  1847,  when  he 
published  Shadows  from  the  Clouds,  a  work  of  consider- 
able merit,  but  now  almost  forgotten.  His  next  attempt 
was  T/lc  Ne7iiesis  of  Faith,  which  he  meant  as  a  protest 
against  the  reverence  of  the  Church  for  what  he  calls 
Hebrew  mythology.  This  work  having  offended  the 
universities,  he  was  deprived  of  his  fellowsliin,  and 
also  of  a  position  to  which  he  had  been  appointed  in 
Tasmania. 

Froude's  great  work,  and  the  one  on  whicli  his  fame 
is  based,  is  liis  History  of  Knglund  from  the  Fall  of  M'olsey 
to  the  Death  of  Elizabeth,  twelve  volumes,  wliich  appeared 
from  1856  to  1869.  The  style  of  the  work  is  admirable, 
and  it  is  the  most  conij)lete  record  extant  of  the  period 
of  which  it  treats;  but  it  is  also  ])artisan,  and  many  of 
the  incidents  are  over-colored,  AN'hile  his  thought  is 
iudicious  and  forcibly  expressed,  he  sometimes  bends 
the  historical  fact  to  establish  an  argument  or  enforce 
an  opinion,  rather  than  states  the  entire  truth  and  per- 
mits each  reader  to  draw  his  own  conclusions. 

The  most  important  of  Mr.  Froude's  other  writings 

278 


JAMES  ANTHONY  FROUDE.  279 

are  two  volumes  issued  in  1867,  entitled  Shcri  Studies  on 
Great  Subjects  and  T7ie  English  in  Ireland  in  the  Eighteenth 
Century — which  last  is  in  a  measure  an  excuse  for  the 
conduct  of  the  English  government  in  its  relations  to- 
ward Ireland — and  his  Sketch  of  desar,  a  masterpiece  of 
English  composition. 

CRITICISM. 

Froude's  style  in  some  of  his  writings  resembles  that 
of  Carlyle,  of  whom  lie  is  an  admirer,  though  it  is  with- 
out a  tinge  of  the  jjessimism  which  characterized  the 
later  writings  of  his  illustrious  Scotch  model.  His 
claim  is  that  he  wrote  his  History  after  a  careful  investi- 
gation of  the  material  at  hand — state  documents  and 
correspondence  of  the  time  represented;  and  his  aim 
seems  to  have  been  not  to  justify  Henry  VIII.,  but 
rather  to  avoid  the  wholesale  censure  visited  upon  that 
monarch.  His  style  is  not  only  forcible,  but  also 
graphic  and  clear.  He  has  written  ably  on  social  and 
educational  topics,  as  well  as  on  history,  and  few  books 
better  repay  a  careful  perusal  than  do  his  Short  Studies 
on  Great  Subjects  and  his  Sketch  of  Cscsar. 

THE  INSTRUCT!  VEXESS  OF  ROMAN   HISTORY. 

Note. — This  sketch  Ih  taken  from  the  opening  chaiiter  of  Froude's 
Sketch  of  CcEsar. 

To  the  student  of  political  history,  and  to  the  English 
student  above  all  others,  the  conversion  of  the  Roman 
Republic  into  a  military  empire  commands  a  peculiar 
interest.  Notwithstanding  many  differences,  the  Eng- 
lish and  the  Romans  essentially  resemble  one  another.  5 


Analysis. — 1-4.  Is  this  a  y)erio(Iic  or  a  loose  sentence? 
5.  another.     Sliould  this  be  out  auolher  or  each  other  in  si>caking  of 
two  nations  ? 


2<S0         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

The  early  Romans  possessed  the  faculty  of  self-goveni' 
nient  beyond  any  people  of  wliom  we  have  historical 
knowledge,  with  the  one  exception  of  ourselves.  In 
virtue  of  their  temporal  freedom  they  became  the  most 
powerful  nation  in  the  known  world ;  and  their  liberties  10 
perislied  only  Avhen  Rome  became  the  mistress  of  con- 
quered races  to  whom  she  was  unable  or  unwilling  to 
extend  her  privileges.  If  England  was  similarly  su- 
prt-me,  if  all  rival  powers  were  eclij)sed  by  her  or  laid 
under  her  feet,  the  imperial  tendencies,  which  are  as  Hi 
strongly  marked  in  us  as  our  love  of  liberty,  might- lead 
us  over  the  same  course  to  the  same  end.  If  there  he 
one  lesson  which  history  clearly  leaches,  it  is  this,  that 
free  nations  cannot  govern  subject  provinces.  If  they 
are  unable  or  unwilling  to  admit  their  dependencies  to  20 
share  their  own  constitution,  the  constitution  itself  will 
fall  in  pieces  from  mere  incompetence  for  its  duties. 

We  talk  often  foolishly  of  the  necessities  of  things, 
and  we  blame  circumstances  for  the  consequences  of 
our  own  follies  and  vices;  but  there  are  faults  which  25 
are  not  faults  of  will,  but  faults  of  mere  inadequacy 
to  some  unforeseen  position.  Human  nature  is  equal 
to  much,  but  not  to  everything.  It  can  rise" to  altitudes 
where  it  is  alike  unable  to  sustain  itself  or  to  retire  from 
them  to  a  safer  elevation.  Yet  when  the  field  is  open  it  3i« 
pushes  forward,  and  moderation  in  the  pursuit  of  great- 


Analysis. — 8,  9.  In  virtue,  of.     Wliat  is  the  meaniug  of  viri'M 
here  ? 

IC    known  world.     What  kind  of  adjective  is  known  f 

11    v'hen  Rome  became,  etc.     What  figure? 

13    If  Enyland  was,  etc.     What  is  the  mode  of  tvasf 

14,  15.  What  figure  in  these  lines? 

23.  We  Udk  often  fooliishly.     Criticise  the  position  of  the  a<l"erb. 

2^27.  but  there  are  ....  fosUion.     Reconstruct. 

29    alilx  unable.    Ciivt:  fiTHtmnHtical  ^instruction. 


JAMES  ANTUONY  FROUDE.  281 

ness  is  naver  learnt  and  never  will  be  learnt.  Men  of 
genius  are  governed  by  their  instinct;  they  follow  where 
instinct  leads  them ;  and  the  public  life  of  a  nation  is 
hut  the  life  of  successive  generations  of  statesmen,  whose  35 
horizon  is  bounded,  and  who  act  from  day  to  day  as  im- 
mediate interests  suggest.  The  popular  leader  of  the 
hour  sees  some  present  difficulty  or  present  opportunity 
of  distinction.  He  deals  with  each  question  as  it  arises, 
leaving  future  consequences  to  those  who  are  to  come  40 
after  him.  The  situation  changes  from  period  to  period, 
and  tendencies  are  generated  with  an  accelerating  force, 
which,  when  once  established,  can  never  be  reversed. 
"When  the  control  of  reason  is  once  removed,  the  catas- 
trophe is  no  longer  distant ;  and  then  nations,  like  all  45 
organized  creations,  all  forms  of  life,  from  the  meanest 
flower  to  the  highest  human  institution,  pass  through 
the  inevitably  recurring  stages  of  growth  and  trans- 
formation and  decay.  A  conimonAvealth,  says  Cicero, 
ought  to  be  immortal,  and  for  ever  to  renew  its  youth.  50 
Yet  commonwealths  have  proved  as  unenduring  as  any 
other  natural  object ; 

"  Everytliing  that  grows 
Holds  in  perfection  but  a  little  moment, 

And  this  luige  state  presenteth  naught  but  shows  55 

Whereon  the  stars  in  silent  iutiuence  couiuient." 

Nevertheless,  "as  the  heavens  are  high  above  the  earth, 
go  is  wisdom  above  folly."     Goethe  compares  life  to  a 
game  of  whist,  where  the  cards  are  dealt  out  by  destiny, 
aid  the  rules  of  the  game  are  fixed:  subject  to  these  (UJ 
con<litions,  the  players  are  left  to  win  or  lose  according 


Analysis. — 33.  where.     Should  this  be  where  or  whither  f 
35,  36.  whose  horizon.     What  figure?     Explain. 
57,  58.  Give  the  grimmatical  relation  of  as  and  so. 


282  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

to  their  skill  or  want  of  Bkill.  The  life  of  a  nation,  like 
the  life  of  a  man,  may  be  prolonged  in  honor  into  the 
fullness  of  its  time,  or  it  may  perish  prematurely,  for 
want  oi  guidance,  by  violence  or  internal  disorders.  G-"* 
And  thus  the  history  of  national  revolutions  is  to 
Ptatopmanship  what  the  pathology  of  disease  is  to  the 
art  of  medicine.  The  physician  cannot  arrest  the  coming 
on  of  age.  W'here  disease  has  laid  hold  upon  the  con- 
stitution, he  cannot  expel  it.  But  he  may  check  the  70 
l^rogress  of  the  evil  if  he  can  recognize  the  symj)toms 
ii,  time.  He  can  save  life  at  the  cost  cf  an  unsound 
limb.  He  can  tell  us  how  to  preserve  our  health  when 
we  have  it ;  he  can  warn  us  of  tlie  conditions  under 
whicli  particular  disorders  will  have  us  at  disadvantage.  75 
And  so  with  nations :  amidst  the  endless  variety  of  cir- 
cumstances there  are  constant  phenomena  which  give 
notice  of  approaching  danger;  there  are  courses  of  ac- 
tion wliich  have  uniformly  produced  the  same  results; 
and  the  wise  politicians  are  those  who  have  learnt  from  80 
experience  the  real  tendencies  of  things,  unmisled  by 
superficial  differences — who  can  shun  the  rocks  where 
others  have  been  wrecked,  or  from  foresight  of  what  is 
coming  can  be  cool  when  the  peril  is  uj)on  them. 

For  these  reasons  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Rejjublic  is  85 
exceptionally  instructive  to  us.  A  constitutional  govern- 
ment the  most  enduring  and  the  most  ])Owerful  that 
ever  existed  was  i)ut  on  its  trial,  and  found  wanting. 
We  see  it  in  its  growth ;  we  see  the  causes  which  under- 
mined its  strength.    We  see  attempts  to  check  the  grow-  00 


Analysis. — 62,  63.  Dispose  of  like  and  life. 

68,  69.  thf,  coming  on  of  aye.     I'aree  cmniny  on. 

69    Kan  laid  hold  upon.     Paree. 

76-84.  Analyze  the  sentence. 

82.  83.  rocJ,-8  where  others,  etc.     What  Gj^ure? 


JAMES  ANTHONY  FROUDE.  283 

ing  mischief  fail,  and  we  8ee  why  they  failed.  And  we 
Bee,  finally,  when  nothing  seemed  so  likely  as  complete 
di-solution,  the  whole  system  changed  by  a  violent 
operation,  and  the  djdng  patient's  life  protracted  for 
further  centuries  of  power  and  usefulness.  95 

Again,  irrespective  of  the  direct  teaching  which  we 
may  gather  from  them,  particular  epochs  in  history 
have  the  charm  for  us  which  dramas  have — periods 
when  the  great  actors  on  the  stage  of  life  stand  before 
us  with  the  distinctness  with  which  they  appear  in  the  100 
creations  of  a  poet.  There  have  not  been  many  such 
periods ;  for  to  see  the  past  it  is  not  enough  for  us  to  be 
able  to  look  at  it  through  the  eyes  of  contemporaries ; 
tliese  contemporaries  themselves  must  have  been  parties 
to  the  scenes  which  they  describe.  They  must  have  had  105 
full  opportunities  of  knowledge.  They  must  have  had 
eyes  which  could  see  things  in  their  true  proportions. 
They  must  have  had,  in  addition,  the  rare  literary 
powers  which  can  convey  to  others  through  the  me- 
dium of  language  an  exact  picture  of  their  own  minds;  110 
and  such  happy  combinations  occur  but  occasionally  in 
thousands  of  years.  Generation  after  generation  passes 
by,  and  is  crumbled  into  sand  as  rocks  are  crumbled  by 
tlie  sea.    Each  brought  with  it  its  heroes  and  its  villains. 

Analysis. — 91.  Give  tlie  mode  cit  fail. 
94.  the  dyinf]  patienl'it  life,  etc.     Explain  the  figUM. 
96.  Dispose  of  the  word  a;/ai7i. 
99.  actors  on  the  stage.     What  figure  liere  ? 

101.  TJiere  have  not.     Dispose  of  the  word  there. 

102.  Parse /or. 

102,  108.  for  us  to  be  able,  etc.     Parse. 

106,  107.  'J'hey  wiw/  have  had  eyen,  etc.    Is  eyeg  used  here  in  a  phytf 
tal  or  a  mental  sense  ? 

110,  an  exact  piriure.     What  fi'jnre? 

111,  happy  cornf/ivdtions.     What  ligiire? 

112,  113.  Purse  }Hi:<ses  by. 


284  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

its  triumphs  and  its  sorrows ;  but  the  history  is  ftrmless  1^ 
legend,  incredible  and  unintelligible;  the  figures  of  the 
actors  are  indistinct  as  the  rude  ballad  or  ruder  inscrip- 
tion which  may  be  the  only  authentic  record  of  them. 
We  do  not  see  the  men  and  women ;  we  see  only  the 
outlines  of  them  which  have  been  woven  into  tradition  120 
as  they  appeared  to  the  loves  or  hatreds  of  passionate 
admirers  or  enemies.     Of  such  times  we  know  nothing, 
save  the  broad  results  as  they  are  measured  from  cen- 
tury to  century,  with  here  and  there  some  indestructible 
])ebble,  some  law,  some  fragment  of  remarkable  poetry,  125 
which  has  resisted  decomposition.     These  periods  are 
the  proper  subject  of  the  philosophic  historian,  and  to 
him  we  leave  them.     But  there  are  others,  a  few,  at 
which  intellectual  activity  was  as  great  as  it  is  now,  with 
its  written  records  surviving,  in  which  the  passions,  the  130 
opinions,  the  ambitions  of  the  age,  are  all  before  us — where 
the  actors  in  the  great  drama  speak  their  own  thoughts  in 
their  own  words  ;  where  we  hear  their  enemies  denounce 
them  and  their  friends  praise  them ;  where  we  are  our- 
selves plunged  amidst  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  hour,  135 
to  feel  the  conflicting  emotions  and  to  sympathize  in  the 
struggles  which  again  seem  to  live  ;  and  here  philosopliy 
is  at  fault.   Philosophy,  when  we  are  face  to  face  with  real 
men,  is  as  powerless  as  over  tlie  Iliad  or  King  Lear.    The 
overmastering   human  interest  transcends  exi)lanation.  HO 
We  do  not  sit  in  judgment  on  the  right  or  the  wrong; 
we  do  not  seek  out  causes  to  account  for  what  takes 


Analysis. — 117.  rude  ballnd.     VVliat  is  the  meaning  of  mide  here? 
123.  8uve  lite  broad  results.     Give  the  grammatical  coostruction  of 
tave. 

125.  Point  out  the  fipnre  in  the  line. 
132.  Give  the  meaning  of  actom  an  iise<l  hero. 
Give  the  meaning  of  drama  in  this  line. 
138,  face  to  face.    Give  tlie  graininaiical  conHtniction. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS,  285 

place,  feeling  too  conscious  of  the  inadequacy  of  our 
analysis.  We  see  liuman  beings  possessed  by  difierent 
impulses,  and  working  out  a  preordained  result,  as  the  lU 
Bubtle  forces  drive  each  along  the  path  marked  out  for 
him ;  and  history  becomes  the  more  impressive  to  us 
where  it  least  immediately  instructs. 


Analysis. — 148.  least  immediately.    Give  the  meaning  of  the  ex- 
pression. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS. 

1.  POETS. 

Robert  Browning  (1812-1889). — Known  as  the  head  of  the 
psychological  school  of  poets.  Husband  of  Elizabeth  Barrett 
Browning.  Educated  at  London  University.  Author  of  Para- 
celsus, Pijypa  Passes,  The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin,  The  Ring  and 
the  Bonk,  etc. 

Mrs.  C.  E.  S.  Norton  (I\Iiss  Sheridan),  (1808-1877).— Was 
the  granddaughter  of  the  celebrated  dramatist  Sheridan.  Her 
chief  poems  are  The  Sorrows  of  Rosalie,  T}ie  Undying  One,  Tlie 
Dream,  and  The  Child  of  the  Islands.  She  wrote  also  the  novel 
Stnart  of  Dunleifh. 

Adelaide  A.  Procter  (1825-1864).— The  daughter  of  Bryan 
Waller  Procter.  Author  of  Words,  One  by  One,  A  New  Mother, 
and  many  other  poems. 

Gerald    Massey   (1828 ). — A   journalist  and   poet.     An 

errand-boy  up  to  his  eighteenth  year.  Author  of  Babe  Christa-' 
bel,  Crniycronk  Castle,  Ilai^elock's  March,  and  Tale  of  Eternity. 

Charles  Mackay  (1814-1889). — A  journalist  and  poet.  Wrote 
llie  Ilujje  of  the  World,  TIte  Salamandrine,  Voices  from  the  Crowd, 
Town  Lyrics,  Studies  from  the  Antique,  etc.  Also  a  number  :f 
prose  works. 

William  Morris  (1834-1896),— A  great  narrative  poet.  Edu- 
cated at  Exeter  College,  Oxford.  Wrote  27ie  Life  and  Death  of 
Jason  and  The  Earthly  Paradise. 

Owen  Meredith  (Edward  Robert  Lytton,  now  Lord  liTT- 


286  STUDIES  TN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

ton),  (1881-1891).— a  son  of  the  great  novelist.  Wrote  under 
tlie  pseiulonyin  "Owen  Meredith."  Author  of  The  Wanderer 
Lucile,  Chronicles  and  Characters,  and  Fables  in  verse. 

Prof.  William  E.  Aytoun  (1813-]865).— A  native  of  Edinburgh. 
Educated  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  Was  afterward  Pro- 
fessor of  Belles  Lettres  in  the  same  University.  Wrote  Lays  of 
Scottish  Cavaliers,  Bothwell,  an  historical  romance,  and  a  satire 
FirmiUan,  a  Spasmodic  Tragedy. 

Sydney  Dobell  (182-1-1874). — A  poet  who  wrote  under  the 
pseudonym  "  Sydney  Yendys."  Was  employed  regularly  in  his 
father's  counting-house  at  Cheltenham.  Wrote  The  Roman 
England  in  Time  of  War,  England's  Day.  etc. 

Martin  Farquhar  Tupper  (1810-1889). — A  London  barrister 
and  poet.  Author  of  Proverbial  Philosophy,  An  Author's  Mind 
The  Crock  of  Gold. 

Algernon  Charles  Swinburne   (1837 ). — Son  of  Admiral 

Swinburne.  Educated  at  Eton  and  Oxford.  A  highly  imagina- 
tive and  classical  poet.  Author  of  Atalanta  in  Calydon,  Chaste^ 
lard,  A  Song  of  Italy,  Bothwell,  a  tragedy,  etc. 

Robert  Buchanan  (1841 ). — A  native  of  Scotland.  Edu- 
cated at  the  High  School  and  the  University  of  Glasgow.  Wrote 
UndeHones  when  still  a  minor.  Wrote  also  Idyls  of  Inverbum 
London  Poems,  Tlie  Book  of  Orni,  etc. 

2.  DRAMATISTS. 

Sir  Thomas  Noon  Talfourd  (1795-1854).— An  eloquent  Eng- 
lish barrister  and  judge.  Was  called  to  the  bar  in  1821,  and 
made  judge  in  1833.  Author  of  the  tragedies  Ion,  The  Athenian 
Captive,  and  The  Castilian,  Wrote  also  Vacation  Rambles,  Life 
of  Charles  Lamb,  and  an  Essay  on  the  Greek  Drama. 

Henry  Taylor  f  1800-1RS()), — Distinguished  both  as  a  poet  and 
as  an  essayist.  Was  the  literary  executor  of  Southey,  and  au- 
thor of  Philip  Van  Arievelde,  Isaac  Comnenus,  Edwin,  and  other 
dramas. 

Douglas  Jerrold  (1803-1857). — Son  of  an  actor,  and  discin* 
guishcd  as  a  witty  and  satiric  writer  of  plays,  talcs,  and  sketches. 
Began  writing  for  the  Coburg  Theatre,  on  a  salary,  at  eighteen 
years  of  age.  Author  of  Black- Eyed  Susan,  Nell  Gwynne,  Rent' 
Day,  The  Housekeeper,  Time  Wor{:s  Wonders,  Retired  from  Busi- 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  287 

ness,  Heart  of  Oold,  and  many  other  dramas.  Author  also  of 
Caudle  Lectures,  Men  of  Character,  and  other  popular  sketches. 
Tom  Taylor  (1817-1880). — Educated  at  Glasgow  University 
and  Cambridge.  Was  Professor  of  English  Literature  in  Uni- 
versity College,  London.  Author  of  more  than  a  hundred 
dramas.  Some  of  his  beat  are  Still  Waters  Run  Deep,  The 
Ticket- of- Leave  Man,  Victims,  An  Unequal  Match,  The  Contested 
Election,  Tlie  Overland  Route,  'Twixi  Axe  and  Grown,  and  Joan 
of  Arc. 

3.  HISTORIANS   AND   BIOGRAPHERS. 

Sir  Archibald  Alison  (1792-1867).— Son  of  Rev.  Archibald 
Alison,  author  of  an  Essay  on  Taste.  Distinguished  as  a  writer 
on  law  and  history.  Was  lord  rector  of  Marischal  College, 
Aberdeen,  and  Glasgow  University.  Author  of  History  of  Eu- 
rope from  the  French  Revolution  to  the  Restoration  of  the  Bourbons, 
ten  volumes,  and  a  History  of  Europe  from  the  Fall  of  Napoleon 
1815,  to  the  Accession  of  Napoleon,  1852,  eight  volumes. 

George  Grote  (1794-1871). — An  English  historian  of  German 
descent.  Was  a  banker  and  a  member  of  Parliament.  Wrote 
History  of  Greece,  twelve  volumes,  and  Plato  and  the  Other  Com- 
_  panions  of  Socrates,  three  volumes. 

Henry  Hart  Milman  (1791-1868).— Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  Au- 
thor of  History  of  the  Jews  and  History  of  Latin  Christianity, 
One  of  the  greatest  of  English  historians. 

Thomas  Arnold  (1795-1842). — The  celebrated  head-master  of 
Rixgby  School.  Educated  at  Oxford.  Author  of  Roman  His- 
iory,  an  edition  of  Thucydides,  and  a  number  of  Historical  Leo- 
tures  and  Sermons. 

Connop  Thirlwall  (1797-1875).— Bishop  of  St.  David's.  Edu- 
cated at  Cambridge.  Began  life  as  a  lawyer,  but  after  three 
years'  experience  entered  the  Church  instead.  Author  of  a 
Histm-y  of  Greece,  eight  volumes. 

Sir  Francis  Palgrave  (1788-1861).— Son  of  Myer  Cohen. 
Changed  his  name  to  his  wife's  mother's  maiden  name.  Au- 
thor of  The  History  of  the  Anglo-Saxons^  The  Rise  and  Progrest 
of  the  English  Commonwealth,  The  History  of  Normandy  and  of 
England. 

George  Henry  Lewes  (1817-1878). — A  philosophical  essayist 
and  biographer.     Studied  for  the  medical  profession,  but  aban- 


288  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

doned  it  for  literature.  Some  of  his  best  works  are  Biograph- 
ical Historij  of  Philosophy,  Physiology  of  Common  Life,  The  Span- 
ish  Drnmn,  The  Life  and  Works  of  Goethe. 

John  Richard  Green  (1837-1883).— Examiner  in  the  School  of 
Modern  History,  Oxford.  Author  of -4  Short  History  of  the  Eng- 
lish People  and  Stray  Studies. 

Miss  Agnes  Strickland  (1801-1874). — A  writer  on  historic 
scenes  and  stories  for  children.  Aided  by  her  sister,  she  wrote 
I/ives  of  the  Queens  of  England,  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  Scotland, 
fete. 

John  Forstep  (1812-1876). — A  tireless  literary  student  and 
biographer.  His  chief  works  were  Statesmen  of  the  Common- 
wealth of  England,  I^ife  of  Goldsmith,  Life  of  Dickens,  Biograph- 
ical and  Historical  Essays,  etc. 

Charles  Knight  (1790-1873).— Roth  publislier  and  author. 
Wrote  Old  I'rinter  arid  Modern  Press  and  a  Popular  History  of 
England. 

William  Howard  Russell  (1816 ). — Special  correspondent 

for  the  London  Times.  A  native  of  Dublin.  Educated  at  Trinity 
College.  His  chief  literary  work  has  been  his  articles  for  the 
Times.  He  published  also  Diary  in  India,  Diary  North  and 
South,  and  My  Diary  during  the  Great   War. 

William  Hepworth  Dixon  (1821-1879). — A  miscellaneous  wri- 
ter. Studied  law,  but  devoted  himself  to  literature.  Author 
of  Life  of  John  Howard,  Life  of  Admiral  Blake,  New  America, 
Her  Majesty's  Tower,  Free  Russia,  etc. 

Edward  A.  Freeman  (1823-1892). — A  prominent  writer  on 
liistory,  politics,  and  architecture.  Noted  also  as  a  lecturer. 
Author  of  History  and  Conqvext  of  the  Saracens,  History  of  t/te 
Norman  Comjuest,  Growth  of  the  English  Constitution,  A  History 
of  Architecture,  Comparative  Politics,  etc. 

4.  NOVELISTS. 

George  Payne  Rainsford  James  (1801-1860). — A  voluminous 
writer  of  fiction.  Said  to  have  written  one  hundred  and  cifrlity- 
nine  volumes.  Author  of  liirhelieii,  Darnley ,-  or,  The  Field  of 
the  Cloth  of  Gold,  One  in  a  Thousand,  Edward  the  Black  Prince, 
etc. 

Edward  Bulwer,  Lord  Lytton  (180.'')-1873). — Assumed  the  name 


CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS.  289 

Lytton  when  he  succeeded  to  hia  mother's  estate,  she  being-  of 
the  house  of  Lytton.  Educated  at  Cambridge.  Author  of  many 
excellent  novels :  Pelham,  The  Lout  Days  of  Pompeii,  Bienzi,  The 
Last  of  the  Barons,  TJie  Caxtons,  My  Novel,  What  ivill  he  Do  with 
It  ?  etc.  Author  also  of  several  dramas :  Richelieu  and  The  Lady 
oj  Lyons. 

Benjamin  Disraeli  (1804-1881).— The  son  of  Isaac  Disraeli. 
Was  prime  minister  of  England.  His  first  novel  was  Vivian 
Grey.  Among  his  best  works  are  Contarini  Fleming,  Conings- 
hy,  and  Endymion,  the  last  written  just  before  his  death.  Was 
made  earl  of  Beaconsfield. 

William  H.  Ainsworth  (1805-1882).— A  well-known  writer  of 
fiction.  Was  for  a  time  an  editor.  Author  of  Jack  Sheppard, 
Spanish  Matches,  Old  Court,  Hilary  St.  Ives,  Merrie  England,  etc. 

Samuel  Warren  (1807-1877). — An  English  jurist  and  novelist. 
Known  chiefly  as  the  author  of  Passages  from  the  Diary  of  a 
Late  Physician  and  Ten  Thousand  a  Year. 

Rev.  Charles  Kingsley  (1819-1875). — A  writer  of  prose  and 
poetry.  Educated  at  Magdalen  College,  Cambridge.  Became 
Professor  of  Modern  History  at  Cambridge.  Wrote  Yeast,  a 
Problem,  Hypatia  ;  or,  Neiv  Friends  with  an  Old  Face,  Westward 
Hoi  Two  Years  Ago,  besides  other  novels  and  a  number  of 
poems. 

Charlotte  Bronte  (1796-1855). — Wrote  under  the  pseudonym 
"  Currer  Bell."  One  of  the  most  original  novelists  of  her  time. 
The  daughter  of  an  Irish  curate.  Author  of  The  Professor,  Jane 
Eyre,  Shirley,  Vilette. 

Charles  James  Lever  (1806-1872).— An  Irish  novelist.  Was 
for  a  time  a  physician.  Editor  of  the  Dublin  University  Maga- 
zine for  three  years.  Wrote  The  Confessions  of  Harry  Lorrequer, 
Charles  O'Malley,  Jack  Hinton,  Tlie  Knight  of  Qwymie,  The  Dodd 
Family  Abroad  etc. 

Samuel  Lover  (1798-1868).— An  Irish  novelist  and  song- 
writer. Began  life  as  a  miniature-painter.  Wrote  Rory  O'More, 
Handy  Andy,  and  Treasure  Trove.  Autlior  also  of  the  songs 
"Molly  Bawn,"  "The  Angels'  Whisper,"  "The  Four-Leaved 
Shamrock,"  etc 

Thomas  Hughes  (1823-1896).— A  Cliancery  barrister.     Was 
educated  at  Rugliy  under   Dr.  Arnold,  ami   at  Oriel   College, 
19 


290         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Oxford.  Was  a  member  of  Parliament.  Author  of  Tom  Brovm^$ 
School-Days,  Tom  Brown  at  Oxford,  The  Scouring  of  the  Whita 
Horse,  etc. 

William  Wilkie  Collins  (1824-1889).— Both  a  biographer  and 
a  novelist.  Author  of  the  Life  of  William  Collins;  also,  The 
Dead  Secret,  The  Womari  in  White,  No  Name,  Antonina,  J/ter 
Dark,  The  Moonstone,  and  a  number  of  other  novels. 

Captain  Mayne  Raid  (1818-1883).— A  novelist  of  the  sen- 
Batioual  school.  Born  in  Ireland.  Served  in  the  U.  S.  army 
in  the  war  with  Mexico.  Author  of  The  Rijle- Rangers,  The 
Scalp- Hunters,  The  Boy  Hunters,  The  Forest  Exiles,  The  Quad- 
roon, etc. 

Charles  Reade  (1814-1884). — An  English  barrister  and  nov- 
elist. Educated  at  Magdalen  College.  Author  of  Pejr  TFo^n^r- 
ton.  It  is  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend,  White  Lies,  Jack  of  All  Tirades, 
The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth,  Hard  Cash,  Grijjith  Gaunt,  Foul  Play, 
I'ut  Yo)irsflf  in  his  Flare,  etc. 

George   MacDonald   (1S24 ). — One  of  the  most  original 

novelists  of  the  day.  Educated  at  Aberdeen.  Author  of  David 
Elginbrod,  Alec  Forbes  at  Howglen,  Annnk  of  a  Quiet  Neighbor- 
hood, Robert  Falconer,  Wilfred  Cumhermede,  and  other  novels. 

Edmund  Yates  (1831-1894). — A  journalist  and  novelist;  also 
a  dramatic  writer  and  critic.  Author  of  Kissing  the  Rod, 
Wrecked  in  Port,  Nobody's  Fortune,  The  Castaway,  Broken  to 
Harness,  etc. 

Mrs.  (Dinah  Maria  Mulock)  Craik  (1826-1887).— One  of  the 
best  of  English  novelists.  A  writer  also  of  literature  for  chil- 
dren. Author  of  The  Ogilvies,  John  Halifax,  Gentleman,  A  Life 
for  a  Life,  Mistress  and  Maid,  The  Wonuui's  Kingdom,  A  Brave 
J/xdy,  and  other  novels,  as  well  as  poems  and  miscellaneous 
works 

Mrs.  Oliphant  (formerly  IMahgahkt  Wilsox),  (1820-1807).— 
Both  a  novelist  and  a  biographer.  Author  of  a  Life  of  Edward 
Irinng.  Wrote  also  Zaidee,  Harry  Muir,  Agnes,  The  Mini«ter'i 
Wife,  A  Rose  in  June,  and  other  novels. 

Anthony  Troilope  (1816-1882). — A  prolific  novelist.  Son  of 
Mrs.  Fraiicas  Troilope,  the  novelist.  Educated  at  Winchester 
and  Harrow.  Aiitlior  of  'The  Wardeji,  Barchester  Towers,  Tlie 
Bertrams,  Doctor  Thome,  Pliinms  Finn,  Tlie  Vicar  of  BulUuimp- 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  291 

ton,  Diamond  Out  Diamond,  and  many  other  works  of  fiction. 
Wrote  also  a  number  of  works  of  &  miscellaneous  character. 

Gerald  Griffin  (1813-1840).— An  Irish  poet  and  novelist  of 
great  merit.  Author  of  Holland-fide,  Tales  of  Manster  Festivals, 
The  Collegians,  etc.     Wrote  also  Oiles  Machree  and  other  poema. 

George  Augustus  Sala  (1826-1895). — A  journalist  and  novel- 
ist. Editor  of  Temple  Bar.  Author  of  The  Buddington  Peerage, 
The  Seven  Sons  of  Mammon,  Gaslight  and  Daylight  in  London,  etc. 

Mary  Elizabeth  Braddon  (1837 ■). — A  native  of  London. 

A  prolific  writer  of  fiction.  Author  of  Lady  Audley's  Secret,  Au' 
rora  Floyd,  Dead-Sea  Fruit,  Trail  of  the  Serpent,  etc. 

5.  ESSAYISTS    AND    CRITICS. 

Mrs.  Anna  Jameson  (1797-1860). — An  able  writer  on  art. 
Daughter  of  Murphy,  the  Dublin  painter.  Ranks  with  Rua- 
kin.  Author  of  Characteristics  of  Women,  Sacred  and  Legendary 
Art,  Celebrated  Female  Sovereigns,  Handbook  to  the  Public  Galleries 
of  Art,  Legends  of  the  Madonna,  etc. 

Harriet  Martineau  (1802-1876). — A  writer  on  political  and 
social  economy.  Wrote  also  Society  in  America,  The  History  of 
the  Thirty  Years'  Peace,  Retrospect  of  Western  Travel ;  and  two 
novels,  Deer  Brook  and   77^6  Hour  and  the  Man. 

William  Howitt  (1795-1879).— A  British  prose-writer  and 
traveler.  Born  of  Quaker  parents.  Educated  in  the  schools 
of  that  Society.  Author  of  Book  of  the  Seasons,  Rural  Life  in 
England,  Homes  and  Haunts  of  the  British  Poets,  etc. 

Mrs.  Sarah  Ellis  (1812-1872). — Wife  of  a  missionary  to  the 
South  Sea  Islands.  Her  chief  works  are  Women  of  England, 
The  Daughters  of  England,  The  Wives  of  England,  The  Mothers  of 
England,  and  A  Summer  and  Winter  in  the  Pyrenees. 

Sir  Arthur  Helps  (1814-1875). — An  essayist  and  historian. 
Educated  at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  His  prominent  works 
are  Friemh  in  Council,  Companions  of  my  Solitude,  The  Claims  of 
Labor,  History  of  the  Spanish  Conquest  of  America,  etc. 

John  Ruskin  (1819-1900). — An  eminent  art-critic.  Educated 
at  Christ  Church  College,  Oxford.  Professor  of  Art  in  the 
University  of  Oxford.  Author  of  Modern  Painters,  The  Seven 
Lamps  of  Archikcture,  The  Stones  of  Venice,  besides  a  n  amber  o''" 
lectures  on  art. 


292        STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Matthew  Arnold  (1822-1888).— A  poet  and  essayist.  Son  of 
Dr.  Thomas  Arnold.  Educated  at  Rugby  and  at  Balliol  Col- 
lege, Oxford.  Author  of  The  Strayed  Reveler,  and  Other  Poemt, 
Merope,  a  Tragedy,  Essays  on  Criticism,  etc. 

Professor  Max  Miiller  (1823-1900).— A  native  of  Germany. 
Lecturer  at  Oxford.  Author  of  Chips  from  a  Oerman  Workshop, 
Lectures  on  the  Science  of  Language,  Essays  on  Mythology,  etc. 

Right  Hon.  William  E.  Gladstone  (1809-1S98).— An  English 
etatesman  and  author.  Educated  at  Oxford.  Author  of  Sludiet 
on  Homer  and  the  Homeric  Age. 

6.  SCIENTIFIC  WRITERS. 

Mrs.  Mary  Somerville  (1780-1872). — A  distinguished  writer 
on  astronomy.  Author  of  The  Mechanism  of  the  Heavens,  The 
Connection  of  the  Physical  Sciences,  Physical  Society. 

William  Whewell,  D.  D.  (1794-1866).— A  scientific  writer  of 
great  attainments.  Vice-Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge. Wrote  A  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  The  Philo»- 
ophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  etc. 

Sir  David  Brewster  (1781-1867). — A  distinguished  astronomer. 
Spent  twenty  years  in  editing  the  Edinburgh  Encyclopoedia.  His 
principal  works  are  a  treatise  on  the  Kaleidoscope,  a  treatise  on 
Optics,  More  Worlds  than  One,  and  his  Life  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  (1788-1856).— The  most  profound  meta- 
physical writer  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Educated  at  Oxford. 
His  principal  works  are  his  edition  of  Dr.  Riid's  Wor/:s  and 
his  Lectures,  which  were  published  after  his  death. 

John  Stuart  Mill  (1806-1873).— One  of  the  ablest  philosophers 
of  Europe.  Author  of  A  System  of  Logic,  Essays  on  Political 
E^^nomy,  Principles  of  Political  EcoJiomy,  A  Treatise  on  Liberty, 
Comte  and  Positivism,  etc. 

Michael  Faraday  (1791-1867). — A  great  English  chemist.  The 
Son  of  a  blacksmith.  His  chief  works  arc  Researches  in  Elec- 
tricity and  [lopiilnr  lectures  on  The  Chemistry  of  a  Candle. 

Sir  Charles  Lyell  (1797-1875). — An  eminent  English  geolo- 
gist. The  first  author  who  succeeded  in  elevating  geology  to 
the  dignity  of  a  science.  Wrote  Principles  of  Geology,  E'ementt 
of  Geology,  Travels  in  North  America,  etc. 

Sir  Roderick  I.  Murchison  (1792-1. '^70). — A  geologist.     Hl« 


CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS.  293 

chief  work  is  Siluria,  the  History  of  the  Oldest  Known  Rocfa 
containing  Organic  Remains  Wrote  also  a  work  on  the  Qeology 
of  Russia. 

Hugh  Miller  \J802-185G). — A  practical  geologist.  For  seven- 
teen years  a  stone-ma.sou.  Also  a  brilliant  writer.  Author  of 
Poems  by  a  IStone-AIasoa,  The  Old  Red  Sandstone,  Footprints  of  the 
Creator,  My  Sr-hools  and  Schoolmasters,  The  Testimony  of  the  Rocks, 
The  (Jruise  of  the  Betsy,  and  other  works. 

Charles  Darwin,  F.  R.  S.  (1809-1882). — An  eminent  naturalist. 
Lducated  at  Edinburgh  and  Cambridge.  Wrote  The  Varia- 
tion of  Animals  and  Plants  under  Domestication,  The  Origin  of 
Sf>ecies,  The  Descent  of  Man,  Movements  and  Habits  of  Climbing 
Plants,  etc. 

John  Tyndall  (1820-1893). — An  eminent  scientist.  Born  in 
Ireland.  Professor  of  Natural  Philosophy  in  the  Royal  Insti- 
tution. Author  of  Heat  considered  as  a  Mode  of  Motion,  Gla- 
ciers of  the  Alps,  Fragments  of  Science,  and  a  number  of  other 
scientific  works. 

Herbert  Spencer  (1820-1904). — A  writer  on  biology  and  psy- 
chology. Began  life  as  an  engineer.  His  chief  works  are 
Priticiples  of  Psychology  ;  Essays,  Scientific,  Political,  and  Specu- 
lative/ Principles  of  Biology,  etc. 

Henry  Thomas  Buckle  (1822-1862). — A  writer  of  great 
learning,  but  often  incoherent.  Author  of  A  History  of  Civil- 
ization. 

Thomas  Henry  Huxley,  F.  R.  S.  (1825-1895).— A  distinguish- 
ed naturalist.  Professor  of  Natural  History  in  the  Royal 
School  of  Mines.  His  prominent  works  are  Man's  Place  in 
Nature,  Lectures  on  Comparative  Anatomy,  Protoplasm,  Lay 
Sermons,  etc. 

Archibald   Geikie,  LL.D.  (1835 ). — A  learned  geologist. 

A  Scotchman.  Wrote  The  Story  of  a  Boulder,  Phenomena  of  the 
Glacial  Drift  of  Scotland,  etc. 

Richard  A.  Proctor  (1837-1888). — Eminent  as  an  astronomer. 
Wrote  Saturn  and  its  System,  The  Expanse  of  Heaven,  Light 
Science  for  Leisure  Hours,  Science  Byways,  etc. 

J.  Norman  Lockyer  (1836 ). — An  astronomer.     Lecturer 

in  the  University  of  Cambridge.  Author  oi  Elementary  Lesson$ 
in  Aitroiunny. 


294         STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE, 

7.   THE0L0G1.ANS. 

John  H.  Newman,  D.  D.  (1801-1890).— An  eminent  theological 
writer.  Educated  at  Trinity  College,  Oxford.  Some  of  his  most 
important  works  are  Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons,  History  of  ihe 
A  rians,  Historical  Sketches,  etc. 

Richard  Whately,  D.  D.  (1787-1863).— A  theologian  and  politi- 
cal eroiiomist.  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  Educated  at  Oriel  Col- 
lege, Oxford.  Author  of  Elements  of  Logic,  Lectures  on  Political 
Econo7ui/,  Elemaits  of  Rhetoric,  and  many  essays  on  theological 
subjects. 

R.  C.  Trench,  D.  D.  (1807-1880).- Archbishop  of  Dublin. 
An  eminent  theologian  and  scholar.  Graduated  at  Cambridge. 
Became  dean  of  A\''estminster.  Author  of  Notes  on  the  Parables, 
Sijnnnyms  of  the  New  Testament,  Lessons  on  the  Proverbs,  Lecturci 
on  the  Study  of  Words;  English,  Past  and  Present;  also  a  number 
of  poem.«i  and  other  works. 

Rev.  Arthur  Penrhyn  Stanley  (1815-1881).- Dean  of  Westmia- 
Bter.  Educated  at  liugby  and  Oxford.  His  principal  works  are 
Life  of  Dr.  Arnold,  Commentary  on  the  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians, 
Sinai  and  Palestine,  I^ecfvres  on  the  Jewish  Church,  Historical  Me- 
morials of  Westminster  Abbey,  etc. 

Henry  Alford,  D.  D.  (1810-1871).— Dean  of  Canterbury.  Poet 
and  critic.  Author  of  Poems  and  Poetical  Fragments,  A  Plea  for 
the  Queen's  English,  How  to  Study  the  New  Testament,  etc. 

Rev.  F.  W.  Robertson  (181(5-1853). — A  popular  and  eloquent 
clergyman.  Educated  at  Edinburgh  and  Oxford.  His  chief 
work  is  four  vuhimes  of  Sermons. 

Isaac  Taylor  (1787-1805).— Called  "  the  greatest  of  English 
.ay  theologians  since  Coleridge."  Author  of  Elements  of  Tlionght, 
The  Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm,  History  of  Fanaticiani,  etc. 

Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon  (1834-1892). — An  eloquent  and  popular 
English  preacher.  Author  of  a  number  of  volumes  of  eer- 
mons,  Morning  by  Morning,  Evening  by  Evening,  John  Plough- 
man's  Talks,  etc. 

Nicholas  Wiseman  (1802-1865).— Born  of  Irish  parents  at 
Seville,  in  Spain.  Educated  in  the  P^nglish  College  at  Rome 
A  man  who  posseswd  talents  of  a  very  liigh  order.  Was  made 
a  cardinal  in  1850.  His  chief  work  is  Twelve  Lectwe*  on  t/ie 
Connection  between  Science  and  Revealed  Religion, 


CONTEMPORANEOVS   WRITERS.  296 

8.   TRAVELERS. 

A.  H.  Layard  (1817-1894). — A  famous  traveler.  Discovered  a 
iarge  number  of  specimens  of  Assyrian  art  at  Nineveh.  Pub- 
lished the  results  of  his  discoveries  in  Nineveh  and  its  Remains. 

Richard  Francis  Burton  (1820-189U). — Another  traveler  and 
explorer.  Born  in  Ireland.  Author  of  Personal  Narrative  of  a 
Pilgrimage  to  El  Medinah  and  Meccah,  The  Lake-Regions  of  Cen- 
tral Africa,  Ultima  Thule ;  or,  A  Summer  in  Iceland,  and  many 
other  works. 

Sir  Samuel  White  Balcer  (1821-1893).— A  traveler  in  Africa, 
Ceylon,  etc.  Known  as  "the  elephant-hunter."  Author  of 
The  Rifle  and  the  Hound  in  Ceylon,  Eight  Years'  Wanderings  in 
Ceijlon;  The  Albert  Nyanza,  Great  Basin  of  the  Nile;  The  Nile 
Tributaries  of  Abyssinia. 

Dr.  David  Livingstone  (1817-1873). — An  African  missionary 
and  traveler  who  made  many  important  discoveries  in  Africa. 
Author  of  Missionary  Travels  and  Researches  in  South  Africa, 
Narrative  of  an  Expeilition  to  the  Zambesi  and  its  Tributaries,  etc. 

Dr.  John  Brown  (1810-1882). — A  charming  essayist.  Grad- 
uated at  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  Wrote  Horoe  Subse- 
civce,  an  exquisite  chapter  of  which  is  known  as  "Rab  and  his 
Friends."  Wrote  also  some  delightful  chapters  on  "  Dogs." 
He  was  also  a  prolific  writer  for  medical  journaJa. 


Lowell, 
Emerson,  Channing, 

Prescott, 
Bancroft,  Motley, 

/  Bryant,  Whittier, 

/  Longfellow,  Holmes. 

EEVOLUTIONARY  PERIOD, 
1760-1830. 

Drake,  Halleek. 

COLONIAL  PERIOD, 

1640-1760. 

Jonathan  Edwards. 

AMERICAN    LITERATURE. 


AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 


The  first  book  printed  in  America,  the  Bay  Psalm- 
Book,  was  ])ublished  in  1640 ;  and  this  may  be  said  to 
have  been  the  beginning  of  American  literature,  though 
George  Sandys,  a  resident  of  Virginia,  is  said  to  have 
translated  Ovid's  Metamorphoses  some  years  earlier. 
Efforts  were  made  in  both  New  England  and  Virginia, 
soon  after  the  settlement  of  each,  to  establish  schools 
and  colleges,  but  literature  was  at  first  neglected,  because 
the  energies  of  the  people  were  necessarily  directed  to 
the  settlement  and  development  of  the  country. 

In  the  earliest  i3eriod  of  our  national  history,  not  only 
our  schools,  but  also  our  thought  and  writings,  were  in 
a  measure  fashioned  after  English  models.  The  litera- 
ture therefore  was  largely  imitative,  and  it  continued  so 
for  the  first  two  hundred  years  of  our  country's  exist- 
ence. No  nation,  however,  has  witnessed  a  more  rapid 
and  at  the  same  time  more  healtliy  literary  growth  than 
lias  America  since  the  beginning  of  the  present  century. 

American  Literature  may  be  divided  into  three  periods, 
as  follows : 

1.  The  Colonial  Period.     From  1040  to  1760. 

2.  The  Revolutionary  Period.     From  1700  to  1830. 

3.  The  National  Period.     From  1830  to  the  present. 

2«7 


I. 

THE   COLONIAL  PEMOD. 

1640-1760 

The  Colonial  Age  was  mainly  one  of  fighting  anvi 
manual  industiy.  The  warfare  with  the  Indians  and 
tlie  struggle  for  existence  on  the  part  of  our  early  set- 
tlers left  but  little  time  or  opportunity  for  literary  cul- 
ture. The  drama,  then  the  most  popular  form  of  litera- 
ture in  England,  was  not  tolerated  by  the  Puritans,  and 
it  did  not  flourish,  therefore,  in  America.  Libraries  were 
few,  and  the  means  of  communicating  ideas  but  scant ; 
hence  the  age  was  not  favorable  to  literary  development, 
and  the  growth  of  American  literature  was  slow  indeed. 
Owing  to  these  causes  also,  learning  was  confined  mainl}'' 
to  the  clergy,  and  we  find  as  a  consequence  that  the 
liteiature  of  this  period  is  almost  wholly  of  a  theologi- 
cal character. 


L  JONATHAN  EDWARDS, 

1703-1758. 

The  greatest  writer  of  the  Colonial  Period  of  Ameri- 
can literature  was  Jonathan  Edwards,  a  distinguished 
divine  and  metaphysician,  who  was  born  in  Windsor, 
Connecticut,  in  the  year  IVO^.  At  the  age  of  thirteen 
he  entered  Yale  College,  and  at  nineteen  he  became  a, 
preacher  in   New  York.     A   year  later  he  was  elected 

2i*8 


JONATHAN  EDWARDS.  299 

f.utor  in  Yale,  which  position  he  filled  for  two  years, 
discharging  the  duties  with  great  success.  He  then 
joined  his  grandfather  as  the  latter's  colleague  in  the 
ministry  at  the  village  of  Northampton,  Massachusetts, 
where  his  time  was  given  wholly  to  study  and  the  duties 
of  his  profession. 

Edwards  first  gained  fame  as  a  writer  by  his  treatise 
on  Oriylnal  Sin.  His  chief  work,  and  also  his  most  pro- 
found, is  An  Inquiry  into  the  Freedom  of  the  Will.  It  is 
indeed  a  "  masterpiece  of  metaphysical  reasoning." 
Among  his  other  works  may  be  mentioned  A  Treatise 
concerning  Religious  Affections,  The  Nature  of  True  Virtue, 
and  The  Hkiory  of  Redemption. 

Edwards  followed  his  profession  as  a  Congregational 
minister  until  the  year  1757,  when  he  was  elected  Presi- 
dent of  the  College  of  New  Jersey  at  Princeton,  where 
he  died  of  small-pox  in  the  following  j'ear. 


CRITICISM   ("CHAMBERS'S  CYCLOPAEDIA"). 

Edwards  was  a  proficient  in  classic  and  Hebrew 
literature,  physics,  mathematics,  history,  chronology, 
mental  philosophy,  and  ethics.  His  greatest  work  was 
written  in  four  and  a  half  months,  during  which  he 
carried  on  the  correspondence  of  the  mission,  and 
preached  each  Sabbath  two  sermons  in  English  and 
two  by  interpreters  to  two  Indian  congregations,  be- 
sides catechising  the  children  of  both  tribes.  His  ne- 
glect of  style  as  a  writer  is  to  be  regretted.  His  works 
were  printed  very  much  as  first  written,  yet  a  marked 
improvement  was  effected  in  his  later  years.  The  style 
of  the  Inquiry  into  the  Dredom  of  the  Will  (written,  as 
has  just  been  said,  in  so  short  a  time)  is  considered  by 
competent  judges  to  be  as  correct  as  that  of  most  meta- 
physical treatises. 


300        STUIFES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

MEANING  OF  THE  PHRASE  "MORAL  INABILITY.** 

Note. — The  following  short  selection  from  Edwards's  treatise  on 
Ihe  Freedom  of  the  Will  illustrates  his  style  and  method  of  thouglj* 

It  must  he  observed  concerning  moral  inability,  in 
each  kind  of  it,  that  the  word  mnbiUty  is  used  in  a  sense 
very  diverse  from  its  original  import In  the  strict- 
est propriety  of  speech,  a  man  has  a  thing  in  his  power 
if  lie  has  it  in  his  choice  or  at  his  election;  and  a  man 5 
cannot  be  truly  said  to  be  unable  to  do  a  thing  when  he 
can  do  it  if  lie  will.  It  is  improiterly  said  that  a  person 
cannot  perform  those  external  actions  which  are  depend- 
ent on  the  act  of  tlie  will,  and  whioli  would  be  easily 
})crformed  if  the  act  of  the  will  were  present.  And  if  10 
it  be  ini))roperly  said  that  he  cannot  perform  those  ex- 
ternal voluntary  actions  which  depend  on  tlie  will,  it  is 
in  some  resi)ects  more  improperly  said  that  he  is  unable 
to  exert  the  acts  of  the  will  themselves;  because  it  ia 
more  evidently  false,  with  respect  to  these,  that  he  can-  IS 
not  if  he  will ;  for  to  say  so  is  a  downright  contradiction; 
it  is  to  say  he  cannot  will  if  he  does  will.  And  in  this 
case,  not  only  is  it  true  that  it  is  easy  for  a  man  to  do 
the  thing  if  he  will,  but  the  very  willing  is  the  doing; 


Analysis. — 1.  concerning.    Give  the  grammatical  construction. 

3.  diverse.     Modernize. 

import.     What  is  the  meaninjj;  here? 

5.  Give  the  meaning  of  election  in  this  line. 

7.  What  is  the  meaning  of  will  as  here  used  ? 

7-10.  Analyze  the  sentence. 
10.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  present. 

14.  ezert  the  arU.     Explain. 

15.  Dispose  of  the  word  more. 

16.  CJive  the  grammatical  construction  of  to  say. 

17.  not  only  w  it  true.     How  is  not  only  us/xl  here? 

18.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  to  do. 

19.  Parse  verv. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  301 

when  once  he  has  willed,  the  thing  is  performed,  and  20 
nothing  else  remains  to  be  done.  Therefore,  in  these 
things  to  ascribe  a  non-performance  to  the  want  of 
power  or  ability  is  not  just,  because  the  thing  wanting  is 
not  a  being  able,  but  a  being  willing.  There  are  facul- 
ties of  mind  and  capacity  of  nature,  and  everything  else  25 
sufficient,  but  a  disposition;  nothing  is  wanting  but  a 
will. 

A  N  ALYSis. — 20.  when  once  he  has  willed,  the  thing  is  performed.  Which 
b  the  modifying  clause? 
21.  Dispose  of  the  word  else. 

23.  Dispose  of  the  word  ivanting. 

24.  a  being  able,  but  a  being  willing.    Give  the  grammatical  construo 
tion  of  being  able,  being  willing. 

25,  26.  Dispose  of  each  of  the  following  words:   everything,  eUe, 
sufficient. 

26,  27.  nothing  is  wanting  but  a  will.     Dispose  of  nothing,  wanting, 
but,  will. 


CONTEMPOEANEOUS  WRITERS. 

Rev.  Increase  Mather  (1612-1672). — ^A  very  learned  man,  and 
for  some  years  President  of  Harvard  College.  Wrote  Remark- 
able Providences. 

Rev.  Cotton  Mather  (1663-1728).— Son  of  Rev.  Increase 
Mather.  Graduated  at  Harvard  when  only  fifteen  years  of 
age.  Wrote  Magnalia  Christi  Americana,  The  Wonders  of  the 
Invisible  World,  and  Memorable  Providences  relating  to  Witch- 
craft. 

Rev.  John  Eliot  (1604-1690).— A  missionary  to  the  Indians. 
Translated  tlie  first  Bible  into  the  Indian  dialect,  which  trans- 
lation was  also  the  first  Bible  printed  in  America. 
.  Mrs.  Ann  Bradstreet  (1612-1672).— The  first  female  Ainer- 
lean  poet,  Wilo  of  Governor  Bradstreet.  Wrote  The  Four 
Elements. 


THE    REYOLUTIONARY    PERIOD. 

1760-1830. 

The  American  Revolution,  which  resulted  in  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  United  States  as  a  nation,  disturbed 
the  literary  as  well  as  the  political  world.  Most  of  the 
pampiilets  and  books  written  during  this  period  had 
only  a  temporary  interest,  because  they  related  to  the 
struggle  in  which  the  coloiiies  were  engaged,  and  few 
of  them  were  preserved.  The  orations,  tiiough  spirited, 
were  mainly  of  a  political  and  patriotic  character,  and 
most  of  them  never  were  printed.  It  was  not,  indeed, 
until  we  felt  that  our  liberties  were  secure  that  literature 
began  to  receive  much  encouragement.  The  age,  there- 
fore, has  but  few  representatives  of  iiote. 


2.  JOSEPH    RODMAxN    DRAKE, 

1795-1820. 

Joseph  Rodman  Drake,  a  poet  of  groat  promise,  who 
was  stricken  down  by  consumption  at  the  early  age  of 
twenty-five,  was  born  in  the  city  of  New  York  on  the 
7th  of  August,  1795.  His  father  died  while  the  j.oet 
wa8  yet  quite  young,  and  left  the  family,  consisting 
of  Joseph  and  three  sisters,  in  comparative  povert/. 
Drake,  however,  obtained  a  good  education,  and  com- 
pleted the  study  of  medicine  under  the  direction  of  his 
warm  personal  friend,  Dr.  Nicholas  Romayne.  Soon 
after  obtaining  liis  degree,  in  October,  1816,  lie  married 

302 


JOSEPH  RODMAN  DRAKE.  303 

Sarah  Eckford,  whose  wealth  placed  him  in  affluent 
circumstances.  After  his  marriage,  in  company  Tvith 
his  wife  and  his  brother-in-law,  Dr.  De  Kay,  D;ake 
visited  Europe.  Having  returned,  and  finding  hia 
health  much  impaired,  he  spent  the  winter  of  181!)  iu 
New  Orleans ;  but  his  fatal  disease  had  already  laid 
hold  on  him,  and  he  returned  to  New  York  in  the 
spring  of  1820,  only  to  die  on  the  following  21st  of 
September. 

Drake  was  a  poet  from  boyhood.  It  is  said  he  pro- 
duced excellent  verses  at  the  age  of  fourteen.  He  was 
the  warm  personal  friend  of  the  poet  Halleck,  and  to- 
gether they  published  the  Oroakers,  a  series  of  poems,  in 
the  Evening  Post.  The  series  consisted  of  about  thirty 
poems,  nearly  half  of  them,  including  The  American 
Flag,  having  been  written  by  Drake. 

The  Culprit  Fay,  Drake's  most  finished  poem,  was 
v/ritten  in  the  summer  of  1819.  It  was  the  result  of  a 
discussion  in  which  Cooper  the  novelist  and  Fitz-Greene 
Halleck,  in  speaking  of  the  adaptation  of  the  Scottish 
streams  to  the  uses  of  poetry  by  their  romantic  asso- 
ciations, claimed  that  such  was  not  the  case  with  Amer- 
ican streams.  Drake,  naturally  a  disputer,  took  the 
opposite  view,  and  to  prove  his  position  set  to  work, 
and  taking  the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson  as  the  place 
in  which  to  locate  liis  scene,  ])roduced  in  three  days  The 
Culprit  Fay,  a  most  exquisite  poem. 

CRITICISM. 

One  who  knew  Drake  well  says  of  him:  "His  per- 
ception was  ra[)id  and  his  memory  tenacious.  He  de- 
voured all  tlie  works  of  imagination.  His  favorite  i)oet8 
were  Shakespeare,  Burns,  and  Campbell.  He  was  fon<l 
of  discussion  among  his  friends,  and  would  talk  by  the 


304  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

hour,  either  side  of  an  argument  affording  him  equal 
opportunity."  He  was  a  rapid  composer,  and  wrote 
with  great  ease  on  the  spur  of  the  moment.  Many  of 
his  productions  were  dashed  off  while  he  sat  with  hia 
friends  or  in  the  company  of  his  household.  It  is  im- 
possible to  say  what  Drake  might  have  done  had  he 
lived,  but  certainly  no  American  poet  except  Bryant 
ever  wrote  such  musical  or  delicate  verses  at  so  early  an 
age.  Some  of  his  creations,  particularly  The  Culprit  Fay, 
are  poems  of  great  delicacy  and  exquisite  fancy. 

THE  AMERICAN   FLAG. 

I. 

When  Freedom,  from  her  mountain  bight, 

Unfurled  her  standard  to  the  air, 
She  tore  the  azure  robe  of  night, 

And  set  the  stars  of  glory  there. 
She  mingled  with  its  gorgeous  dyes  6 

The  milky  baldric  of  the  skies. 
And  striped  its  pure,  celestial  white 
With  streakings  of  the  morning  light; 
Then,  from  his  mansion  in  the  sun, 

She  called  her  eagle  bearer  down,  It 

And  gave  into  his  mighty  hand 
The  symbol  of  her  chosen  land. 

II. 

Majestic  monarch  of  the  cloud, 
Who  rear'st  aloft  thy  regal  form, 


Analysis. — 1.  Freerhnn.    What  figure? 

2.  Unfurled  her  atamlard.     What  figure? 

3.  Name  the  figure  in  this  line. 

6.  Give  the  meaning  of  buldric.     milky  baldric.     What  fig'ire? 
8.  Ktredkinyx  ....  li(jht.     What  figure  ? 
9- 12.   Pdiiil  out  tiie  figure  in  liiese  linea. 
13.  Whal  figure  in  the  line? 


JOSEPH  RODMAN  DRAKK  305 

Tohear  the 'tempest  trumpings  loud  15 

And  see  the  lightning  lances  driven, 

When  strive  the  warriors  of  the  storm, 
And  rolls  tlie  thunder-drum  of  heaven, 
Child  of  the  sun  !  to  tliee  'tis  given 

To  guard  tlie  banner  of  the  free,  20 

To  hover  in  the  sulphur  smoke. 

To  ward  away  the  battle-stroke, 

And  bid  its  blendings  shine  afar, 

Like  rainbows  on  tlie  cloud  of  war, 

The  harbingers  of  victory  I  26 

III. 

Flag  of  the  brave  1  thy  folds  shall  fly. 

The  sign  of  hope  and  triumph  high, 
When  speaks  the  signal  trumpet  tone, 

And  the  long  line  comes  gleaming  on ; 
Ere  yet  the  life-blood,  warm  and  wet,  30 

Has  dimmed  the  glistening  bayonet. 
Each  soldier  eye  shall  brightly  turn 

To  where  thy  sky-born  glories  burn. 
And,  as  his  springing  steps  advance, 
Catch  war  and  vengeance  from  the  glance.  35 

And  when  the  cannon-mouthings  loud 

Heave  in  wild  wreaths  the  battle-shroud, 
And  gory  sabres  rise  and  fall 
Like  shoots  of  flame  on  midnight's  pall ; 


Analysis. — IS.  What  figure  on  ro//s.'  On  thunder-di-um  of  heaven  f 

19.  Child  of  the  som!     What  figure? 

19-25.  Name  the  subject.     Name  the  modifiers  of  the  subject 

24.  Parse  like  and  rainbow. 

26    Flag  of  the  brave  I     What  figure? 

27.  eiyn  of  hope.     Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  sign. 

31.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

33.  Parse  where. 

35.  Give  the  mode  and  tense  of  cnfch, 

36.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

37.  What  is  the  meaning  of  vibl  and  baflle-shroridf 
39.  Parse  Like  and  shoots.     Point  out  the  figure. 


306        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

Then  shall  thy  meteor  glan^^es  glow,  40 

A.Dd  cowering  foos  shall  sink  beneath 

Each  gallant  arm  that  strikes  below 
That  lovely  messenger  of  death. 

y 
IV. 

Flag  of  the  seas !  on  ocean  wave 

Thy  stars  shall  glitter  o'er  the  brave ;  4S 

When  death,  careering  on  the  gale, 

Sweeps  darkly  round  the  bellied  sail, 

And  frighted  waves  rush  wildly  back 

Before  the  broadside's  reeling  rack. 

Each  dying  wanderer  of  the  sea  60 

Shall  look  at  once  to  heaven  and  thee, 

And  smile  to  see  thy  splendors  fly 

In  triumph  o'er  his  closing  eye. 

V. 

Flag  of  the  free  heart's  only  home  I 

By  angel  hands  to  valor  given,  55 

Thy  stars  have  lit  the  welkin  dome. 

And  all  thy  hued  were  born  in  heaven. 
For  ever  float  that  standard  slieet  I 

Where  breathes  the  foe  but  falls  before  U3, 
With  Freedom's  soil  beneath  our  feet,  60 

And  Freedom's  banner  waving  o'er  us? 


Analysis. — 40.  meteor  rjI'mceA.     What  fij^iire. 

42.  Is  the  word  beloto  a  ijotxl  word  liere  ? 

42,  43.  Give  the  grammalical  constniction  of  thai  and  ThaL 

44.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

48.  frighted  wnva^.     What  figure? 

49.  WHiat  example  of  alliteration? 

62.  Give  the  meaning  of  jly  in  this  line. 
64.  Point  out  the  tignres  in  the  line. 
57.  hues  were  born,,  etc.     What  figure? 

68.  standard  sheet,  etc.     What  fimire?     fiive  the  mod«  of  jloai, 

69.  Paj>e  b^. 


3.  FITZ-GREENE   HALLECK, 

1790-1867. 

Fitz-Greene  Halleck,  the  poet,  was  bom  at  Guil- 
ford, in  Connecticut,  July  8,  1790.  Like  his  personal 
friend,  Drake,  he  wrote  verses  as  early  as  the  age  of 
fourteen.  At  eighteen  he  became  a  clerk  in  a  banking- 
house  in  New  York,  and  afterward  he  was  bookkeeper 
in  the  private  office  of  John  Jacob  Astor,  the  great  fur- 
merchant,  with  whom  he  remained  until  the  death  of 
that  millionaire ;  soon  after  which  he  retired  to  Guil- 
ford, where  he  remained  up  to  the  time  of  his  death, 
in  1867. 

Halleck  gained  his  first  literary  celebrity  in  connec- 
tion with  the  poems  written  by  himself  and  Drake, 
which  appeared  over  the  pseudonym  Croaker  &  Go.  in 
the  Evening  Post  in  the  year  1819.  Most  of  these  poems 
were  of  a  personal  character,  in  which  the  poets  satirized 
the  editors,  politicians,  aldermen,  and  small  theatrical 
personages  of  the  day.  But  among  them  were  also 
pieces  of  true  poetic  character,  such  as  The  World  is 
Bright  before  Thee  and  There  is  an  Evening  Twilight  of 
il^  Heart. 

In  1821,  Halleck  published  a  satirical  squib  entitled 
Fanny,  which  is  written  in  the  style  of  Byron's  Don 
Juan,  and  which  satirizes  the  political  as  well  as  the 
fashionable  literary  enthusiasm  of  the  day.  It  was  a 
great  hit,  but  owed  its  permanent  success  to  the  music 
of  its  verses.  After  Halleck's  visit  to  England  in  1822 
be  produced  his  verses  on  Galnwick  Cattle.    These,  with 

307 


308        SlUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

his  Marco  Bozzaris  and  his  lines  on  Burns,  with  other 
poems,  were  issued  in  book  form  in  1827. 

CRITICISM. 

The  versification  of  Halleck's  poems  is  smooth  and 
narmonious;  indeed,  it  is  ahnost  perfect;  and  this  is 
characteristic  of  his  writings,  whether  he  deals  with  the 
simplest  subject  or  pours  out  in  glowing  eifulgence  the 
most  brilliant  thoughts  on  the  most  exalted  themes.  He 
displays  also  a  geniality  of  feeling  and  a  delicacy  of 
humor  which  make  his  writings  very  pleasing.  It  is 
to  be  regretted  that  Ilalleck,  who  wrote  so  well,  wrote 
so  little. 

MARCO  BOZZARIS. 

Note. — Bo/.zaris  was  a  Greek  patriot  wlio  fell  in  an  attack  upon 
the  Turkish  camp  at  La.spi,  the  site  of  the  ancient  Plata>a,  August 
20,  1823,  and  expired  in  the  moment  of  victory,  exclaiming,  "  To 
die  for  liberty  is  a  pleasure,  not  a  pain." 

At  midnight,  in  his  guarded  tent, 

The  Turk  was  dreaming  of  the  hour 
When  Greece,  her  knee  in  suppliance  bent, 

Should  tremble  at  his  power: 
In  dreams,  through  camp  and  court,  he  bore  i 

The  trophies  of  a  conqueror; 

In  dreams  his  song  of  triumph  heard ; 
Then  wore  his  monarch's  signet-ring: 
Then  pressed  that  monarch's  throne — a  king; 
As  wild  his  thoughts,  and  gay  of  wing,  10 

As  Kdcn's  garden-bird. 


Analysis. — 3.  Wheii  Greece,  etc.     What  figure?     Parse  hnee  and 
ktnt. 

5,  C.  What  kind  of  sentence — periodic  or  loose  7 

7.  Name  the  swlyeot  of  the  clause. 

8.  Name  the  subject  in  this  line,     siijnei-ring.     What  figure? 

9.  Parse  king. 

10,  11.  Write  in  prose  form.     Give  the  case  of  yardm-bird. 


FITZ-GREENE  HALLECK.  309 

At  midnight,  in  the  forest  shades, 

Bozzaris  ranged  his  Suliote  band, 
True  as  the  steel  of  their  tried  blades, 

Heroes  in  heart  and  hand.  15 

There  had  the  Persian's  thousands  stood ; 
There  had  the  glad  earth  drunk  their  blood 

On  old  Plata^a's  day : 
And  now  there  breathed  that  haunted  air 
The  sons  of  sires  who  conquered  there,  20 

With  arms  to  strike,  and  souls  to  dare, 

As  quick,  aa  far,  as  they. 

An  hour  passed  on — th^  Turk  awoke ; 

That  bright  dream  was  his  last  ; 
He  woke — to  hear  his  sentries  shriek,  25 

"  To  arms  !  they  come  1  the  Greek  I  the  Greek  1" 
He  woke — to  die  'midst  flame  and  smoke. 
And  shout,  and  groan,  and  sabre-strokfe. 

And  death-shots  falling  thick  and  fast 
As  lightnings  from  the  mountain-cloud ;  36 

And  heard,  with  voice  as  trumpet  loud, 


AnaIiYSIS. — 14.  Parse  the  word  True. 

15.  Parse  Heroes.     What  is  (lie  meaning  of  heart  and  hand  here  ? 

17.  earth  had  druvlc.     What  figure? 

18.  old  Platcea's  day.  This  refers  to  the  victory  of  the  Lacedae- 
monian Greeks  over  the  Persians  in  the  year  479  B.  c.  Plataea  was  a 
city  in  the  western  part  of  Boeotia,  near  Attica. 

19.  Parse  the  word  there. 

20.  Parse  the  word  there. 

22  To  what  does  aa  quick  refer  ?  also  as  Jar  f  Give  the  ante- 
cedent and  the  ciuse  of  they. 

2t   26    Ctive  the  full  object  of  shriek. 

26.  To  anus/  To  what  is  this  phrase  equivalent?  Give  the 
graramaticsil  construction  of  Greek. 

29.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  thick  and  fast. 

30.  In  what  case  is  lightnings  f  Name  tlie  antecedent  cf  the  ad« 
'unci  from  mountain-cloud. 

31.  Parse  trumpet  and  loud. 


310        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Bozzaris  cheer  his  band : 
"  Strike — till  the  last  armed  foe  expires ; 
Strike — for  your  altars  and  your  fires ; 
Strike — fbr  the  green  graves  of  your  sires;  85 

God — and  your  native  land  I" 

They  fought — like  brave  men,  long  and  well; 

They  piled  that  ground  with  Moslem  slain; 
They  conquered,  but  Bozzaris  fell, 

Bleeding  at  every  vein.  40 

His  few  surviving  comrades  saw 
His  smile,  when  rang  their  proud  hurrah, 

And  the  red  field  was  won : 
Then  saw  in  death  his  eyelids  close, 
Calmly  as  to  a  night's  repose,  46 

Like  flowers  at  set  of  sun. 

Come  to  the  bridal-chamber.  Death  ; 

Come  to  the  mother  when  she  feels, 
For  the  first  time,  her  first-born's  breath; 

Come,  when  the  blessed  seals  60 

Which  close  the  pestilence  are  broke, 
And  crowded  cities  wail  its  stroke ; 
Come,  in  consumption's  ghastly  form, 
The  earthquake's  shock,  the  ocean-storm. 
Come  when  the  heart  beats  high  and  warm  56 


Analysis. — 32.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  cheer. 
33,  34,  35,  30.  What  is  the  force  of  the  dasli  in  each  line  ? 

37.  Parse  lilce  and  men. 

38.  Who  were  the  Moderiut  f 

40.  What  does  this  line  modify  ? 

43.  What  is  the  meaning  of  ral  field  here  ? 

44.  What  is  the  subject  of  the  clause  in  this  line?     Di^poM  0# 
U»  *  word  close. 

45  8iiiti)ly  the  ellipsis. 

46  Parse  tike  and  flawers. 

61    Justify  the  use  of  are  broke. 

52.  Name  the  figure  in  the  line. 

53.  What  figure  in  tliis  line? 

&6.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  high  and  warm. 


FITZ-GREENE  HALLECK.  311 

With  banquet  song,  and  dance,  and  wine ; 
And  thou  art  terrible ;  the  tear. 
The  groan,  the  knell,  the  pall,  the  bier, 
And  all  we  know,  or  dream,  or  fear 

Of  agony,  are  thine.  60 

But  to  the  hero,  when  his  sword 

Has  won  the  battle  for  the  free 
Thy  voice  sounds  like  a  prophet's  word, 
And  in  its  hollow  tones  are  heard 

The  thanks  of  millions  yet  to  be.  65 

Come,  when  his  task  of  Fame  is  wrought, 
Come,  with  her  laurel-leaf,  blood-bought, 

Come  in  her  crowning  hour ;  and  then 
Thy  sunken  eye's  unearthly  light 
To  him  is  welcome  as  the  sight  70 

Of  sky  and  stars  to  prisoned  men ; 
Thy  grasp  is  welcome  as  the  hand 
Of  brother  in  a  foreign  laud ; 
Thy  summons  welcome  as  the  cry 
That  told  the  Indian  isles  were  nigh  76 

To  the  world-seeking  Genoese, 
When  the  land-wind,  from  woods  of  palm, 
And  orange-groves,  and  fields  of  balm, 

Blew  o'er  the  Haytian  seas. 


ANALYSIS. — 57,  58.  Point  out  the  figures. 

59.  ull  we  know.     Supply  the  ellipsis. 

60.  Give  the  grammatical  conatructioa  of  thine. 
61-63.  Write  iu  prose  order. 

6t.  hollow  tones.    What  figure? 

65  Dispose  of  yet  and  to  be. 

66  What  is  the  form  of  the  verb  wrought  f 

67  Name  the   antecedent  of  her.     Point  out   the   figure   in  Lb« 
line. 

70.  it.    For  what  tense  is  this  a  substitute  ?    What  is  the  case  of 
nghtf 

72.  In  what  case  is  hand  f 

75.  Parse  nlyh.     Why  called  Indian  isles  f 

76    Who  is  meant  in  this  line  ? 


312        STUDIES  :y  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Bozzaris  1  with  the  storied  brave  M 

Greece  nurtured  in  her  glorj^'s  time, 
Rest  thee — there  is  uo  prouder  grave, 

Even  in  her  own  proud  clime. 
She  wore  no  funeral  weeds  for  thee 

Nor  bade  the  dark  hearse  wave  its  plume,  86 

Like  torn  branch  froiu  death's  leafless  tree, 
In  sorrow's  jionip  and  pageantry, 

The  heartless  luxury  of  the  tomb. 
But  she  remembers  thee  as  one 

Long  loved  and  for  a  season  gone ;  90 

For  thee  her  poet's  lyre  is  wreathed, 
Her  marble  wrought,  her  music  breathed; 
For  thee  she  rings  the  birthday-bells, 
Of  thee  her  babes'  lirst  lisping  tells; 
For  thine  her  evening  prayer  is  said  96 

At  palace  couch  and  cottage  bed ; 
Her  soldier,  closing  with  the  foe, 
Gives,  for  thy  sake,  a  deadlier  blow ; 
His  plighted  maiden,  when  she  fears 

For  him,  the  joy  of  her  young  years,  100 

Thinks  of  thy  fate  and  checks  her  tears; 

And  she,  the  mother  of  thy  boys, 
Though  in  her  eye  and  faded  cheek 
Is  read  the  grief  she  will  not  speak, 

The  memory  of  her  buried  joys,  106 


Analysis. — 80.  Wliat  is  tlie  meaning  of  storied  braveJ 
80-83.  Point  out  tlie  ligure  in  the.se  lines. 

81.  Snpply  the  ellipsis.     Greece  nurtured.     Winit  figure? 

82.  prouder  grave.     Ciive  tiie  meaning. 

83.  Even  is  an  en]i)lnitic  adverl),  modifying  the  claiiae. 

84.  Junercd  weed*.     AVliat  (ignre? 

85.  waveiti  plume.     Wliat  figure? 

88.  Parse  luxury. 

89.  Name  the  antecedents  of  she  and  tlie^.     Parse  one. 
91.  What  is  the  meaning  of  poet's  tyre? 

96.  Point  ont  the  tignre  in  llie  line. 
100.  (live  the  ixux  of  ioy 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  31 S 

And  even  she  who  g.ive  thee  birth 
Will,  by  their  pilgrim-circled  hearth, 

Talk  of  thy  doom  without  a  sigh  ; 
For  thou  art  Freedom's  now,  and  Fame'Sj 
One  of  the  few,  the  immortal  names  111 

That  were  not  born  to  die. 


Analysis. — 107.  pUgrim-cirrted  hearth.     What  is  the  meuiing? 
111.  Of  what  ifi  not  a  modifier? 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS. 

1.  POETS. 

Philip  Freneau  (1752-1832). — A  popular  political  poet  of  the 
Revolutionary  Period.  Educated  at  Princeton.  A  classmate  of 
Madison. 

Francis  Hopkinson  (1738-1791). — A  witty  poet.  Educated  at 
the  University  of  Pennsylvania.  Became  a  judge  of  the  United 
States  District  Court  in  1790.  Author  of  The  Pretty  Story,  The 
Battle  of  the  Kegs,  etc. 

John  Trumbull  (1750-1831).— A  writer  of  satires.  Educated 
at  Yale.  Became  a  judge  of  the  Superior  Court  in  1801.  Au- 
thor of  McFirifjal,  The  Progress  of  Dullness,  etc. 

Joseph  Hopkinson  (1770-1842). — Son  of  Francis  Hopkinson. 
A  lawyer  by  profession.  Educated  at  the  University  of  Penn- 
sylvania. Was  made  judge  of  the  United  States  District  Court 
in  1828.     Author  of  ifnil  Columbia. 

Clement  C.  Moore  (1779-18()3).— A  Professor  of  Oriental  and 
Gieok  Literature.  Graduated  at  Columbia  College.  Author  of 
A  Visit  from  St..  Nicholas  and  many  other  poems,  also,  a  Hebreio 
and  English  Lexicon. 

Francis  Scott  Key  (1779-1843).— A  lawyer  at  Washington, 
D.  C.  Educated  at  St.  John's  College,  Annapolis.  Wrote  Star- 
8}yangled  Banner  and  other  poems. 

Samuel  Woodworth  (1785-1842).— A  printer.  One  of  tlie 
founders  of  the  New  York  Mirror.  Wrote  The  Old  Oaken 
Bucket  and  a  number  of  dramatic  pieces. 


314        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Mrs.  Maria  Brooks  (1795-1845). — Pronounced  by  Smthey 
"the  most  impassioned  and  most  imaginative  of  all  poetesses.' 
Uer  chief  poem  is  Zophiel ;  or,  The  Bride  of  Seven. 

2.  PROSE-WRITERS. 

Benjamin  Franklin  (1706-1790). — One  of  the  greatest  phil- 
osoj)iiers  and  statesmen  of  his  age.  Rose  from  a  tallow- 
chandler's  boy  to  some  of  the  highest  positions  under  the 
government.  Among  his  chief  works  are  his  Autobiography, 
his  Essays,  etc. 

John  Adams  (1735-1826).— Second  President  of  the  United 
States.  Educated  at  Harvard.  One  of  the  framers  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  Author  of  many  political  and 
state  jiapers. 

Thomas  Jefferson  (1743-1826).— Third  President  of  the  United 
States.  A  great  scholar  and  statesman.  Author  of  Notes  on 
Virginia.     ^Vrote  also  the  "  Declaration  of  ludpendence." 

Dr.  Benjamin  Rush  (1745-1813). — A  medical  writer  of  great 
reputation.  Educated  at  Princeton.  Author  of  Medical  In- 
quiries and  Obifervations  and  many  miscellaneous  essays. 

Lindiey  Murray  (1745-1820). — Author  of  the  first  English 
Grammar;  also  of  the  English  Reader.  Wrote  also  a  num- 
ber of  poems.     Born  near  Swatara,  Pennsylvania. 

Hugh  H.  Brackenridge  (1748-1816). — An  eminent  politician 
and  judge.  Educated  at  Princeton.  Was  also  a  minister. 
Author  of  Modern  Chivalry  and  other  works. 

Timothy  Dwight  (1752-1817). — Both  a  poet  and  a  theologian. 
Educated  at  Yale.  Became  President  of  Yale  College.  His 
chief  prose  work  is  Theology  Explained  and  Defended.  Among 
bis  best  poems  are  Columbia  and  Greenfield  Hill. 

John  Witherspoon  (1722-1794). — One  of  the  signers  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  Became  President  of  Princeton 
College  in  1768.  Educated  at  Edinburgh.  Author  of  Eataya 
on  Important  Subjects  and  other  works. 

Dr.  David  Ramsay  (1749-1815). — An  liistorian  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. Educate(l  at  Princeton.  Resided  mostly  in  South  Caro- 
lina. Author  of  History  of  South  Carolina,  History  of  the  United 
States,  Life  of  Washington,  etc. 

James  Madison  (1751-l^o6). — Fourth  President  of  the  United 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  315 

'States.     Celebrated  as  a  statesman.     Educated  at  Princeton. 
His  chief  literary  works  are  his  papers  in   The  FederaVist. 

Alexander  Wilson  (1766-1813). — An  ornithologist.  Born  m 
Scotland.  Wrote  both  prose  and  poetry.  Author  of  an  extend- 
ed work  on  ornithology. 

Charles  Brockden  Brown  (1771-1810). — The  first  American 
novelist.  He  was  of  Quaker  descent.  Wrote  Wieland,  Alarin, 
Arthur  Mervyn,  etc. 

Archibald  Alexander  (1772-1851). — A  distinguished  theolo- 
gian. Became  President  of  Hampden-Sidney  College.  Was 
for  thirty-eight  years  Professor  of  Theology  at  Princeton.  Au- 
tlior  of  Evidences  of  Christian  Reli(jion,  History  of  the  Israelitish 
Nation,  etc. 

John  Marshall  (1755-1835).— A  celebrated  jurist.  Chief-jus- 
tice of  the  United  States.     Author  of  The  Life  of  Washington. 

Alexander  Hamilton  (1757-1804). — A  soldier,  statesman,  and 
jurist.  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  under  Washington.  Was 
killed  in  a  duel  by  Aaron  Burr.  His  literary  fame  rests  on  his 
contributions  to  The  Federalist. 

William  Wirt  (1772-1834). — An  American  lawyer.  Attorney- 
general  of  tiie  United  States  from  1817  to  1829.  Author  of 
Letters  of  a  British  Spy  and  Sketches  of  the  Life  and  Character 
of  Patrick  Henry. 

John  J.  Audubon  (1780-1851). — Celebrated  as  a  writer  on 
ornithology.  His  chief  work  is  The  Birds  of  America,  in  four 
volumes. 

Judge  James  Kent  (1763-1847). — Distinguished  as  a  writer  on 
law.    Educated  at  Yale.    Wrote  Commentaries  on  American  Law. 

James  K.  Paulding  (1779-1860). — Secretary  of  the  Navy  under 
President  Van  Bureu.  Author  of  Tlie  Diverting  History  of  John 
Bull  and  Brother  Jonathan,  Merry  Tales  of  the  Three  Wise  Men 
of  Gotham,  Wcdward  Ho!  and  many  other  works. 

Joseph  Story  (1779-1845). — A  celebrated  American  jurist. 
Educated  at  Harvard.  Became  a  judge  of  the  United  States 
Supreme  Court.  Author  of  Commentary  on  the  Constitution  of 
the  United  States  and  many  treatises  on  legal  matters. 

Washington  Allston  (1779-1843). — Celebrated  as  artist,  poet, 
and  prose-writer.  Author  of  The  Sylphs  of  the  Seasons,  Romanct 
(f  Monaldi,  Lectures  on  Art,  etc. 


THE   I^ATIOI^AL   PERIOD. 

1830  to  the  Present  Time 

From  1830  onward  America  has  sliown  a  rapid  lite- 
rary development  such  as  was  never  before  known  in 
her  history.  Libraries  have  rapidly  increased ;  the 
newspapers  and  other  periodicals  have  added  largely  to 
the  dissemination  of  knowledge ;  a  healthy  literary  sen- 
timent has  grown  up ;  a  literary  atmosphere  has  been 
created  which  has  i)roved  congenial  to  authorship ;  and 
an  active  demand  for  more  and  better  reading-matter 
has  developed  the  talent  of  American  writers.  As  a 
result,  works  of  great  merit  both  in  prose  and  in  poetry 
have  been  produced  with  great  rapidity,  and  book-mak- 
ing has  become  one  of  the  recognized  industries  of  our 
country. 

To  give  an  account  of  all  the  writers  of  merit  that 
represent  the  National  Period  of  our  literature  would  be 
impossible.  The  following  are  therefore  selected  as  rep- 
resentatives, the  other  chief  writers  being  included  under 
the  head  of  "  Contemporaneous  Writers :" 

1.  Poets — Bryant,  Longfellow,  Whittier,  Holmes. 

2.  Historians — Bancroft,  Prescott,  Motley. 

3.  Essayists — Channing,  Emerson,  Lowell. 

4.  Novelists — Irving,  Coo])er,  Hawthorne. 
L.  Journalists — Curtis,  AV'illis. 

G.  Miscellaneous  Writers — Taylor,  Holland,    Mit- 
cJiell. 
7.  Orators — Webster,  Everett. 

81« 


4.   WILLIAM   CULLEN  BRYANT, 

1794-1878. 

"S^'iLLiAM  CuLLEN  Bryant,  One  of  America's  greatest 
poets,  was  born  at  Cummington,  Hampshire  county, 
Massachusetts,  on  the  3d  of  November,  1794.  His 
father,  who  was  a  physician,  was  a  man  of  considerable 
literary  culture,  and,  it  is  said,  taught  his  son  "  the  value 
of  correctness  and  compression,  and  enabled  him  to  dis- 
tinguish between  true  poetic  enthusiasm  and  fustian." 
Bryant  gave  evidence  of  his  poetic  ability  in  very  early 
life,  having  written  verses  when  but  nine  years  of  age. 
At  the  age  of  ten,  we  are  informed,  he  wrote  a  little 
poem  which  was  spoken  at  school,  and  which  was  after- 
ward published  in  a  county  newspaper. 

The  Embargo,  which  was  his  first  published  volume, 
was  written  when  he  was  but  fourteen.  It  was  publish- 
ed in  Boston  in  1809. 

Bryant  was  educated  at  Williams  College,  which  he 
left  without  taking  his  degree,  and  began  the  study  of 
law.  After  having  been  admitted  to  the  bar  he  practiced 
his  profession  for  a  year  at  Plainfield,  and  then  at  Great 
Barrington,  Mass.,  but  in  1825  he  abandoned  the  law  for 
literature,  which  he  made  his  profession  for  life. 

He  first  edited  the  New  York  Review  and  Athenaeum 
Magazine,  a  monthly  periodical,  which  in  the  following 
year  was  merged  in  a  new  work  of  similar  character 
called  The  United  States  Review  and  Literary  Gazette,  of 
which  also  Bryant  l)ecame  editor.  In  1826  he  became 
editor  of  the  New  York  Ecening  Post,  which  position  he 
held  to  the  ti'iie  of  his  death,  in  1878. 

317 


318        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Bryant's  celebrity  as  a  poet  was  established  by  Thana- 
lopsis,  published  in  1816,  but  written  when  the  author 
was  only  eighteen  years  of  age.  This  exquisite  poem 
was  published  in  the  North  American  Review,  and  at 
once  attracted  great  attention.  It  immediately  placed 
its  author  in  the  foremost  rank  of  American  poets — an 
honorable  place  which  he  has  ever  since  maintained. 

His  next  notable  attempt  was  his  poem,  TJie  Ages,  de- 
livered at  Harvard  in  1821.  Many  of  Br3'ant's  best- 
known  poems  appeared  in  the  periodicals  of  which  he 
was  editor,  though  others  were  contributed  to  other 
periodicals  of  the  day.  He  was  also  a  prose- writer  of 
great  force,  having  a  clear,  concise  style,  which  charac- 
terized every  article  he  wrote,  and  with  which  neither 
hurry,  excitement,  nor  the  press  of  business  was  per- 
mitted to  interfere. 

Among  Bryant's  best  works  are  his  poems,  Thnnatop- 
sis,  The  Death  of  the  Floivers,  Forest  Hymn,  The  Evening 
Wind,  Gh-een  River,  Song  of  the  Saviour,  The  Planting  of 
the  Apple  Tree,  Waiting  at  the  Gate,  and  The  Flood  of  Years. 

In  addition  to  his  editorials  in  the  Pofit,  his  chief  prose 
works  were  his  contributions  to  the  Talisman,  Letters  of  a 
Traveler,  and  an  excellent  translation  of  Homer,  in  four 
volumes. 

Bryant,  like  Wordsworth,  was  a  poet  of  Nature,  and 
by  some  he  has  been  styled  "the  American  Words- 
worth," though  in  purity  of  diction  and  dignity  and 
elegance  r  f  style  he  is  very  much  superior  to  his  Eng- 
lish compeer. 

Bryant's  country  home  for  many  years  of  the  latter 
part  of  his  life  was  at  Roslyn,  on  Long  Island,  a  pictur- 
esque spot  affording  in  itself  excelk'nt  tlicmes  for  the 
poet.  He  died  on  tlie  12th  of  June,  1878,  from  the 
effects  of  a  stroke  which  he  received  just  after  having 
delivered  an  oration  in  Central  Park,  New  York,  on  the 


WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT.  319 

occasion  of  erecting  a  statue  to  the  Italian  patrioc  Maz- 
zini. 

CRITICISM  By  G.  W.  CDRTIS. 

His  poetry  is  intensely  and  distinctively  American. 
He  was  a  man  of  scholarly  accomplishment,  familiar 
with  other  languages  and  literature.  But  there  is  no 
tone  or  taste  of  anything  not  peculiarly  American  In 
his  poetry.  It  is  as  characteristic  as  the  wine  of  the 
Catawba  grape,  and  could  have  been  written  only  in 
America  by  an  American  naturally  sensitive  to  what- 
ever is  most  distinctively  American.  Bryant's  fame  as 
a  poet  was  made  half  a  century  before  he  died,  and  the 
additions  to  his  earlier  verse,  while  they  did  not  lessen, 
did  not  materially  increase,  his  reputation.  But  the 
mark  so  early  made  was  never  effaced,  either  by  him- 
self or  others.  Younger  men  grew  by  his  side  into  great 
and  just  fame.  But  what  Shelley  says  of  love  is  as  true 
of  renown : 

"True  love  in  this  differs  from  gold  and  clay, 
That  to  divide  is  not  to  take  away." 

The  tone  of  Bryant  remained,  and  remained  distinct, 
individual,  and  unmistakable.  Nature,  as  he  said  in 
Thanatopsis,  speaks  "  a  various  language  "  to  her  lovers. 
But  what  she  said  to  him  was  plainly  spoken,  and  clear- 
ly heard  and  perfectly  repeated.     His  art  was  exquisite. 

THANATOPSIS. 

To  him  who  in  the  love  of  Nature  holds 
Communion  with  her  visible  forms,  she  speaka 
A  various  language :  for  his  gayer  hours 

Analysis. — 1-3.  Is  the  sentence  periodic  or  loose?  Rewrite  in 
prose  order.     Point  otit  the  figure  in  the  first  line. 

2.  What  is  the  meaning  of  visible  fonmf 

3.  A  various  language.  Explain  by  tlie  following  lines,  ffct'jer 
IkowB.     Whal  figure? 


320        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

She  has  a  voice  of  gladness,  and  a  smile 

And  eloquence  of  beauty,  and  she  glides  i 

Into  his  darker  musings  with  a  mild 

And  healing  sympathy,  that  steals  away 

Their  sharpness  ere  he  is  aware.     When  thoughU 

Of  the  last  bitter  hour  come  like  a  blight 

Ktjer  thy  spirit,  and  sad  images  10 

O:  the  stern  agony,  and  shroud,  and  pall. 

And  breathless  darkness,  and  the  narrow  house, 

Make  thee  to  shudder,  and  grow  sick  at  heart, — 

Go  forth  under  the  open  sky,  and  list 

To  Nature's  teachings,  while  from  all  around —  15 

Earth  and  her  waters,  and  the  depths  of  air — 

Comes  a  still  voice.     Yet  a  few  days,  and  thee 

The  all-beholding  sun  shall  see  no  more 

In  all  his  course ;  nor  yet  in  the  cold  ground, 

Where  thy  pale  form  is  laid  with  many  tears,  20 

Nor  in  the  embrace  of  ocean,  shall  exist 

Thy  image.     Earth,  that  nourished  thee,  shall  claim 

Thy  growth,  to  be  resolved  to  earth  again, 

And,  lost  each  human  trace,  surrendering  up 

Anaia'SIS. — 7.  healing  sympathy.     What  is  the  meaning? 

8.  Their  sharpness.     What  figure?     Pai-se  ere  and  (xirare. 

9.  the  last  bitter  hour.     What  figure?     'Purse  like  and  blight. 

11.  stern  agony.     What  figure?     What  figures  on  shroud  and  paUf 

13.  Parse  sick. 

14.  Dispose  of  the  yrord  forth.     Give  a  diflferent  form  for  list. 

15.  (Jive  the  construction  of  all  and  around. 

16.  Of  what  is  this  line  explanatory?     What  figure  in  the  line? 

17.  Parse  the  word  days. 

18.  (live  the  meaning  of  more. 

19.  In  /i/.s  courxe.     Wliat  fitjiire?     Why  nor  yet  instead  of  neither  f 
nor  yrt.     With  what  ia  this  correlative? 

19-22.  nor  yet  ... .  image.     Write  in  prose  form. 

20.  (4ive  the  granmiatical  construction  of  Where. 

22.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

23.  Thy  grmdh.     What  fi{,'nre?     to  be  resolved,  etc.     Explain. 

24.  Give  tlie  grammatical  conHtrnction  of  lost  and  trace,    surrendet- 
mg  up,  etc.     C'riti<;iHe.     Of  what  is  the  plinwe  an  adjunct? 


WILL/AM  CULLEN  BRYANT.  321 

I'hine  individual  being,  shalt  thou  go  26 

To  mix  for  ever  with  the  elements — 

To  be  a  brother  to  the  insensible  rock, 

And  M  the  sluggish  clod  which  the  rude  swain 

lurns  with  his  share,  and  treads  upon.     The  oak 

Shall  send  his  roots  abroad,  and  pierce  thy  mould.  80 

Yet  not  to  thine  eternal  resting-place 
Shalt  thou  retire  alone, — nor  couldst  thou  wish 
Couch  more  magnificent.     Thou  shalt  lie  down 
With  patriarchs  of  the  infant  world — with  kings, 
The  powerful  of  the  earth — the  wise,  the  good,  86 

Fair  forms,  and  hoary  seers  of  ages  past, 
All  in  one  mighty  sepulchre.     The  hills 
Rock-ribbed  and  ancient  as  the  sun, — the  vales 
Stretching  in  pensive  quietness  between ; 
The  venerable  woods ;  rivers  that  move  40 

In  majesty,  and  the  complaining  brooks 
That  make  the  meadows  green ;  and,  poured  round  all. 
Old  Ocean's  gray  and  melancholy  waste, — 
Are  but  the  solemn  decorations  all 

Of  the  great  tomb  of  man.     The  golden  sun,  45 

The  planets,  all  the  infinite  host  of  heaven, 
Are  shining  on  the  sad  abodes  of  death 
Through  the  still  lapse  of  ages.     All  that  tread 
The  globe  are  but  a  handful  to  the  tribes 


Analysis. — 25.  What  is  the  subject  of  shalt  got 

27.  a  brother,  etc.     What  figure  ? 

28.  What  is  the  meaning  of  rude  swain  f 

20    Explain  poetic  license  on  the  use  of  share. 

3C    Point  out  the  figures  in  tlie  line. 

32    Dispose  of  alone. 

35.  Scan  the  line  and  criticise 

38.  rock-ribbed.     What  figure? 

44,  Name  the  subjects  of  are.     Parse  but  and  all. 
solemn  decorations.     What  figure? 

45.  The  golden  sun.     What  figure? 
47.  Name  the  figure  in  this  line. 

49.  What  is  the  grammatical  use  of  but?    Give  the  meaning  ol 
tribes 

21 


322  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

That  slumber  in  its  bosom.     Take  the  wings  5€ 

Of  morning,  and  the  Barcan  desert  pierce, 

Or  lose  thyself  in  the  continuous  woods 

Where  rolls  the  Oregon,  and  hears  no  sound 

Save  his  own  dashings, — yet  the  dead  are  there  i 

And  millions  in  those  solitudes,  since  fii"st  58 

The  flight  of  years  began,  have  laid  them  down 

In  their  last  sleep  :  the  dead  reign  there  alone. 

So  shalt  thou  rest;  and  what  if  thou  withdraw 
Unheeded  by  the  living,  and  no  friend 

Take  note  of  thy  departure?     All  that  breathe  60 

Will  share  thy  destiny.     The  gay  will  laugh 
When  thou  art  gone  ;  the  solemn  brood  of  care 
Plod  on  ;  and  each  one,  as  before,  will  chase 
His  favorite  phantom  ;  yet  all  these  shall  leave 
Their  mirth  and  their  employments,  and  shall  come  66 

And  make  their  bed  with  thee.     As  the  long  train 
Of  ages  glides  away,  the  sons  of  men — 
The  youth  in  life's  green  spring,  and  he  who  goes 


\n'alysis. — 50.  Point  out  tlie  fifjure. 

50,  51.  Take  ....  pierce.  Where  is  Barea  ?  What  objections  are 
tliere  to  the  readings  sonietirues  given,  "  pierce  the  Barcan  wilder- 
ness" and  "traverse  Barca's  desert  sands"? 

63.  Oregon.     Wliat  is  tlie  jireseut  name  of  this  river  ? 

64.  What  figure  in  the  line  ? 
55-57.  Point  out  the  figures. 

66.  have  laid  (hem  down.     Give  the  frrnnimatical  construction. 
68.  What  if,  etc.     Supply  the  ellipsis. 

68,59.  Some  readings  give  "witlulraw  in  silence  from;"  other% 
'if  thou  shalt  fall  unnoticed."     What  are  the  objeetions  to  these? 
60.  Give  the  tense  of  Take.     Why  (hat  in  {)reference  to  whof 

62.  solemn  brood  of  care.     What  figure? 

63.  as  before.     Supply  ellipsis,     ['ar^e  hi/ore. 
Q^.  favorite  phanlnm.     What  figure? 

shall  leave.     Should  the  au.xiliary  he  ^hall  or  wiUt 

66.  make  their  bed.     Elucidate,  and  name  the  figure. 

67.  The  poet  originally  wrote  (jlide  instead  of  gUdr*. 

68.  green  spring.     Criticise. 

*>8-71.  Mention  specifications  of  sovs  of  men. 


WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT.  323 

In  the  full  strength  of  years,  matron  and  maid, 

The  bowed  with  age,  the  infant  in  the  smiles  7t 

And  beauty  of  its  innocent  age  cut  off — 

Shall,  one  by  one,  be  gathered  to  thy  side, 

By  those  who,  in  their  turn,  shall  follow  them. 

So  live,  that  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 

The  innumerable  caravan  that  moves  ?• 

To  the  pale  realms  of  shade,  where  each  shall  take 

His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death, 

Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night, 

Scourged  to  his  dungeon,  but,  sustained  and  soothed 

By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave  M 

Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 

About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams. 


Analysis. — 70,  71.  This  was  originally  written  as  followB : 
"  And  the  sweet  babe,  and  the  gray-headed  man." 

71.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  cut  off. 

72.  Dispose  of  one  by  one. 

74-79.  Name  the  modifiers  of  live  ;  the  modifiers  of  go  ;  the  mod- 
ifiers of  summons;  the  modifiers  of  caravan. 

76.  where  each,  etc.     What  does  the  clause  modify? 

77.  Name  the  figure  in  the  line. 

78.  Give  the  mode  of  go.    Parse  like  and  quari-y-slave.    "What  doe* 
at  night  modify  ? 

79.  Scourged  to  his  dungeon.     What  does  the  phrase  modify  ? 
sustained,  etc.     What  does  the  phrase  modify  ? 

80.  approach  thy  grave,  etc.     What  does  this  clause  modify  ? 

81.  82.  like  one,  etc     What  do  these  lines  modiiy  ? 


5.  HE.\RY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW, 

1807-1882. 

Henky  Wadsworth  Longfellow,  a  distinguished 
writer  of  both  prose  and  poetry,  was  born  in  Portland, 
Maine,  on  the  27th  of  February,  1807.  He  was  edu- 
cated at  Bowdoiu  College,  where  he  graduated  in  the 
Bame  class  with  Nathaniel  HaAvthorne  in  1825. 

After  his  graduation  he  studied  law  for  a  short  time 
in  the  office  of  his  father,  the  Hon.  Stephen  Longfellow, 
but  on  his  appointment  in  1826  to  the  professorship  of 
Modern  Languages  and  Literature  in  the  college  from 
which  he  had  graduated,  he  went  to  P^urope,  where  he 
spent  three  years  in  travel  and  study,  preparing  him- 
self for  the  duties  of  his  ])osition.  On  his  return  he 
delivered  a  course  of  lectures  at  Bowdoin,  and  also  con- 
tributed a  number  of  valuable  articles  to  the  North  Amer- 
ican Review. 

Longfellow  held  his  position  at  Bowdoin  until  1835, 
when  he  was  chosen  Professor  of  Modern  Languages  and 
Literature  in  Harvard  College.  He  then  made  a  second 
tour  of  Europe,  to  fit  himself  the  more  thoroughly  for 
his  work,  this  time  visiting  Denmark,  Sweden,  Holland, 
and  Switzerland.  He  held  the  position  at  Harvard  until 
the  year  1854.  when  he  resigned  his  ])rofcssorship. 

Longfellow  wrote  and  published  a  number  of  accept- 
able verses  in  the  United  Stales  Ijiterary  Gazette  as  early 
as  1825,  but  his  best  work  was  done  later  in  life.  In 
1835  he  published  a  prose  work,  Outre  Mer ;  or,  Sketches 
from  Beyond  the  Sea,  which  from  its  elegance  of  diction 
and  fastidious  scholarship  at  once  attracted  attention. 

324 


HENRY  WADSWORTU  LONGFELLOW.         325 

Four  years  later  he  published  his  second  prose  work, 
Hyperion :  a  Romance.  Longfellow's  first  volume  of 
poetry,  entitled  Voices  of  the  Night,  which  included  sucn 
favorites  as  the  "Psalm  of  Life,"  "Midnight  Mass  fcr 
Hie  Dying  Year,"  and  others,  was  issued  also  in  1839. 
Following  this  volume,  there  came  in  1841  Ballads  and 
Other  Poems,  and  then,  in  rapid  succession.  Poems  on 
Slavery,  The  Spanish  Student,  a  tragedy ;  The  Poets  anu 
Poetry  of  Europe,  The  Belfry  of  Bruges,  Evangeline,  an  ex- 
tended poem  in  hexameter  verse;  Kavanagh,  a  prose 
story ;  The  Seaside  and  Eireside,  a  collection  of  short 
poems ;  The  Golden  Legend,  The  Song  of  Hiawatha,  an 
American  Indian  tale ;  Miles  Standish,  Tales  of  a  Way- 
side Inn,  Elower  de  Luce;  a  translation  of  Dante,  The 
Divine  Tragedy ;  The  Three  Books  of  Song,  The  Masque  of 
Pandora,  Keramos,  and  others. 

Some  of  Longfellow's  most  popular  poems  are  Evan- 
geline, Tlie  Old  Clock  on  the  Stairs,  Excelsior,  Skeleton  in 
Armor,  Tfie  Builders,  The  Building  of  the  Ship,  Resig- 
nation, The  Hanging  of  the  Crane,  The  Courtship  of  Miles 
Standish,  and  Paul  Revere^s  Ride. 

Mr.  Longfellow's  house  at  Cambridge  is  the  one  once 
occupied  by  Washington  as  his  head-quarters.  The 
poet  was  twice  married :  his  first  wife  died  in  Holland 
in  1835,  and  his  second  was  burned  to  death  in  1861, 
her  clothes  having  taken  fire  accidentally  while  she 
was  playing  with  her  children.  The  poet  died  at  hia 
home  in  Cambridge,  March  24,  1882. 


CKITICISM  BY  GEORGE  W.  CURTIS. 

liONGFELLOw's  literary  career  has  been  contemporary 

with  the  sensational  school,  but  he  has  been  entirely 

untainted  by  it.    The  literary  style  of  an  intellectually 

iutroverted  age  or  author  will  always  be  somewhat  ob- 


326        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Bcure,  however  gorgeous ;  but  Longfellow's  mind  takci 
a  simple,  child-like  hold  of  life,  and  his  style  never  be- 
trays the  inadequate  effort  to  describe  thoughts  or  emo- 
tions that  are  but  vaguely  perceived,  which  is  the  cha- 
racteristic of  the  best  sensational  writing.  Indeed,  there 
is  little  poetry  by  the  eminent  contemporary  masters 
which  is  so  ripe  and  racy  as  his.  He  does  not  make 
rhetoric  stand  for  passion,  nor  vagueness  for  profundity  ; 
nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is  he  such  a  voluntary  and  ma- 
licious "  Bohemian  "  as  to  conceive  that  either  in  life  or 
letters  a  man  is  released  from  the  plain  rules  of  moral- 
ity. Indeed,  he  used  to  be  accused  of  preaching  in  his 
poetry  by  gentle  critics,  who  held  that  Elysium  was  to 
be  found  in  an  oyster-cellar,  and  that  intemperance  was 
the  royal  prerogative  of  genius.  His  literary  scholar- 
ship, also  his  delightful  familiarity  with  the  pure  lit- 
erature of  all  languages  and  times,  must  rank  Long- 
fellow among  the  learned  poets. 

THE   LAUNCH  OF  THE  SHIP. 
Note. — This  selection  is  taken  from   Longfellow's  Seaside  and 
Fireside  poems. 

All  is  finished;  and  at  length 

Has  come  the  bridal-day 

Of  beauty  and  of  strength. 

To-day  the  vessel  shall  be  launched  I 

With  fleecy  clouds  the  sky  is  blanched;  ( 

And  o'er  the  bay, 

Slowly,  in  all  his  splendors  dight, 

Tbe  great  sun  rises  to  behold  the  sight. 


Analysis. — 1-3.  Point  out  the  figure. 
3.  To  what  do  beauty  and  sIrenijlU  refer? 
b.  fleecy  clouds.     What  figure? 

7.  What  is  the  meaning  of  t/t'^/U/    Give  a  aynonym. 

8.  Point  out  the  fijrure. 


HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW.        327 

The  ocean  old, 

Centuries  old,  10 

Strong  a3  youth,  and  as  uncontrolled, 

Paces  restless  to  and  fro 

Up  and  down  the  sands  of  gold. 

His  beating  heart  is  not  at  rest ; 

And  far  and  wide  16 

With  ceaseless  flow, 

His  beard  of  stiow 

Heaves  with  the  heaving  of  his  breast. 

He  wails  impatient  for  his  bride. 

There  she  stands,  20 

With  her  foot  upon  the  sands, 

Decked  with  flags  and  streamers  gay, . 

In  honor  of  her  marriage-day ; 

Her  snow-white  signals  fluttering,  blending, 

Round  her  like  a  veil  descending,  26 

Ready  to  be 

The  bride  of  the  gray  old  sea. 

On  the  deck  another  bride 

Is  standing  by  her  lover's  side. 

Shadows  from  the  flags  and  shrouds,  SC 

Xiike  the  shadows  cast  by  clouds, 

Broken  by  many  a  sunny  fleck, 

Fall  around  them  on  the  deck. 


Analysis. — 9-19.  Wliat  e.xtended  figure? 
12.  Dispose  of  to  and  fro  and  restless. 
15-18.  Recoustriu't  tlie  periodic  sentence. 

17.  beard  of  s'limo.     What  figure? 

18.  Parse  impatient.     What  figure  in  the  line' 
20-27.  What  extended  figure  in  these  lines? 

24.  snow-while  siffnaU.     Wiiat  figure  ? 

25.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

31.  Like  the  shadows,  etc.     What  figure  ? 
33.  Name  the  subject  of  Fall. 


328        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURK 

The  prayer  is  said, 

The  service  read ;  81 

The  joyous  bridegroom  bows  his  head ; 
And  iu  tears  the  good  old  master 
Shakes  the  brown  hand  of  bis  son, 
Kisses  his  daughter's  glowing  cheek 
In  silence,  for  he  cannot  speak ;  4C 

And  ever  faster 

Down  his  own  tlie  tears  begin  to  run. 
The  worthy  pastor — 
The  shepherd  of  that  wandering  flock 
Tliat  has  the  ocean  for  its  wold,  46 

That  has  the  vessel  for  its  fold. 
Leaping  ever  from  rock  to  rock — 
Spake,  with  accents  mild  and  clear, 
AVords  of  warning,  words  of  cheer, 
But  tedious  to  the  bridegroom's  ear.  60 

He  knew  the  chart 
Of  the  sailor's  heart, — 
All  its  pleasures  and  its  griefs; 
All  its  shallows  and  rocky  reefs ; 
All  those  secret  currents  that  flow  66 

AVith  such  resistless  undertow, 
And  lift  and  drift,  with  terrible  force. 
The  will  from  its  moorings  and  its  course. 
Therefore  he  spake,  and  thus  said  he: 
"  Like  unto  shijis  far  olf  at  sea,  60 

Outward  or  homeward  bound,  are  we. 
Before,  behind,  and  all  around, 
Floats  and  swings  the  horizon's  bound; 


Analysis. — 35.  8iipi)ly  tlie  ellipsis. 

44.  Point  out  the  iigiircs  in  the  line. 

45.  What  18  the  meaning  of  wold  f     What  figure  in  the  line? 

46.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  line? 
48.  Give  the  subject  of  Spake. 

60.  laliouA  to  the  bridegroom's  car.     Is  this  figurative  or  literal  J 
61-58.  What  ligure  in  the.se  liuea  ? 
69,  60.  Pcint  out  the  figure. 


HENRY   WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW.         329 

Seems  at  its  distant  rim  to  rise 

And  climb  the  crystal  wall  of  the  skies,  6tt 

And  then  again  to  turn  and  sink, 

As  if  we  could  slide  from  its  outer  brink. 

Ah  I  it  is  not  the  sea, 

It  is  not  the  sea,  that  sinks  and  shelves, 

But  ourselves  70 

That  rock  and  rise 

With  endless  and  uneasy  motion, — 

Now  toucliing  the  very  skies, 

Now  sinking  into  the  depths  of  ocean. 

Ah  1  if  our  souls  but  poise  and  swing  75 

Like  the  compass  in  its  brazen  ring, 

Ever  level  and  ever  true 

To  the  toil  and  the  task  we  have  to  do. 

We  shall  sail  securely,  and  safely  reach 

The  Fortunate  Isles,  on  whose  shining  beach  80 

The  sights  we  see  and  the  sounds  we  hear 

Will  be  those  of  joy,  and  not  of  fear." 

Then  the  master, 

With  a  gesture  of  command, 

Waved  his  hand;  85 

And,  at  the  word, 

Loud  and  sudden  there  was  heard. 

All  around  them  and  below. 

The  sound  of  hammers,  blow  on  blow, 

Knocking  away  the  shores  and  spurs.  90 

And  see  I  she  stirs  I 

She  starts  I  she  moves  I  she  seems  to  feel 

The  thrill  of  life  along  her  keel  I 

&JIA.LYSIS. — 65.  C7-ystal  wall,  etc.     Wliat  figure? 
70.  Parse  ourselves. 
73,  74.  Point  out  the  figure. 
76,  Point  out  the  figure. 

79,  »ccu-ehj  and  safely.     Why  are  these  allowable?     How  ^\^ald 
they  be  written  in  prose? 

90.  knocking  away,  etc.     What  does  it  modify  ? 
91  -96.  Point  uu'.  the  extended  figure. 


3'J()        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITER ATURK 

And,  spurning  with  her  foot  the  gro\ind, 

With  one  exulting,  joyous  bound  9ft 

Slie  leaijs  into  the  ocean's  arms  I 

Andlo!  from  the  assembled  crowd 
There  rose  a  shout  prolonged  and  loud, 
That  to  the  ocean  seemed  to  say, 
"  Take  her,  O  bridegroom  old  and  gray  1  100 

Take  her  to  thy  protecting  arms, 
With  all  her  youth  and  all  her  charms  !" 

How  beautiful  she  is  I     How  fair 

She  lies  within  those  arms  that  press 

Her  form  with  many  a  soft  caress  105 

Of  tenderness  and  watchful  care  1 

Sail  forth  into  the  sea,  O  ship  I 

Through  wind  and  wave  right  onward  steerl 

The  moistened  eye,  the  trembling  lip, 

Are  not  the  signs  of  doubt  or  fear.  110 

Sail  forth  into  the  sea  of  life, 

O  gentle,  loving,  trusting  wifel 

And  safe  from  all  adversity 

IJlton  the  bosom  of  that  sea 

Thy  comings  and  thy  goings  be  I  115 

For  gentleness  and  love  and  trust 

Prevail  o'er  angry  wave  and  gust; 

And  in  the  wreck  of  noble  lives 

Something  immortal  still  survives. 


Analysis. — 97-102.  What  continuoua  figure  in  these  lines.    Ntme 
.be  modifiers  of  shout. 
103.  Give  the  Krainmatical  construction  of  fair. 

107.  Dispose  of  the  word  forth. 

108.  Parse  tlie  word  right. 

111-119.  What  extended  figure  in  these  lines? 
115.  Parse  be,  comings,  and  goings. 
117.  Point  out  tlie  figure  in  this  line. 
'18.  wreck  of  noble  lives.     What  figure? 


HENRY  WADSWOBTH  LONGFELLOW.         331 

Thou,  too,  sail  on,  0  Ship  of  State  I  121 

Sail  oil,  O  Union  strong  and  great  I 
Humanity  with  all  its  fears, 
With  all  the  hopes  of  future  years, 
Is  hanging  breathless  on  thy  fate. 

We  know  what  master  laid  thy  keel ;  125 

What  workmen  wrought  thy  ribs  of  steel ; 
Who  made  each  mast  and  sail  and  rope ; 
What  anvils  rang,  what  hammers  beat; 
In  what  a  forge  and  what  a  heat 

Were  shaped  the  anchors  of  thy  hope.  130 

Fear  not  each  sudden  sound  and  shock : 

'Tis  of  the  wave,  and  not  the  rock ; 
'Tis  but  the  flapping  of  the  sail, 
And  not  a  rent  made  by  the  gale. 

In  spite  of  rock,  and  tempest's  roar,  135 

In  spite  of  false  lights  on  the  shore. 
Sail  on,  nor  fear  to  breast  the  sea : 
Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  are  all  with  thee ; 
Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  our  prayers,  our  tears, 
Our  faith  triumphant  o'er  our  fears,  14^ 

Are  all  with  thee — are  all  with  thee  I 


Anai.ysis. — 120-141.  Name  the  continuous  figure  running  thrcuf(h 
these  lines. 

125.  thy  keel.    What  figure? 
V2Q.  ribs  of  gleel.     What  figure? 

127.  Point  out  the  figures  in  this  line. 

128.  Name  the  figures  in  this  line. 


6.  JOHN   G.  WHITTIEK, 

1807  -1892. 

JdiiN  Greenleaf  Whittikr,  sometimes  called  *' tlie 
Quaker  poet,"  was  born  at  Haverhill,  Massachusetts,  on 
the  17th  of  December,  1807.  His  i^arents  were  members 
of  Ihe  Society  of  Friends.  Until  his  eiiihtecnth  year  the 
young  poet  spent  his  time  at  home,  working  on  the  farm, 
writing  occasional  verses  for  the  Haverhill  Gazette,  ami 
assisting  during  the  winter  in  making  shoes.  Two  years 
were  then  spent  in  attending  the  village  acadeni}',  after 
which  he  became  the  editor  of  a  pai:)er  in  Boston,  and 
his  life  from  that  time  to  the  present  has  been  spent  in 
literary  pursuits. 

Whittier's  first  volume,  Legends  of  Xeiv  England,  was 
issued  in  1831.  It  consisted  of  both  poems  and  prose 
sketches.  Since  that  time  he  has  written  many  poems, 
and  also  many  sketches  and  tales  in  prose,  but  his  rep- 
utation as  a  writer  rests  almost  whoil}-  on  his  i)oetry. 
Since  the  3'ear  1840,  Whittier,  who  has  never  married, 
has  lived  at  Amcsbury,  Massachusetts,  where  most  of 
his  work  has  been  done.  His  writings  have  been  coi- 
lected  from  time  to  time  and  issued  in  book-form. 

His  most  popular  poems  are  usually  short.  The  fol- 
lowing may  be  mentioned  as  among  tlie  best:  Maud 
Muller,  The  Barefoot  Boy,  Snoioboond,  Barbara  Frictchie, 
A  Tent  on  the  Beach,  My  Playmate,  Among  the  Hills,  Mabel 
Martin,  Centennial  Hymn,  and  SJcipper  Ire^son^s  Ride.  In 
prose  his  princij)al  work  is  Old  Borlraits  and  Modem 
tiU'tchcs. 

3.32 


JOHN  O.  WHITTIER.  333 

CKITICIS^I  BY  GEORGE  S.  HILLARD. 
Whittier  has  written  much  in  prose  and  verse,  and 
his  writings  are  characterized  by  earnestness  of  tone, 
high  moral  purpose,  and  energy  of  expression.  His 
spirit  is  that  of  a  sincere  and  fearless  reformer,  and 
ills  fervid  appeals  are  the  true  utterances  of  a  brave  and 
loving  heart.  The  themes  of  his  poetry  have  been 
drawn,  in  a  great  measure,  from  the  history,  tradi- 
tions, manners,  and  scenery  of  New  England;  and  he 
has  found  the  elements  of  poetical  interest  among 
them  without  doing  any  violence  to  truth.  He  de- 
scribes natural  scenery  correctly  and  beautifully,  and 
a  vein  of  genuine  tenderness  runs  through  his  nature. 

THE  BAREFOOT  BOY. 

Blessings  on  thee,  little  man, 
Barefoot  boy,  with  cheek  of  tan ; 
With  thy  turned-up  pantaloons, 
And  thy  merry  whistled  tunes ; 
With  thy  red  lip,  redder  still  5 

Kissed  by  strawberries  on  the  hill ; 
With  the  sunshine  on  thy  face 
Through  thy  torn  brim's  jaunty  grace  1 
From  my  heart  I  give  thee  joy: 
I  was  once  a  barefoot  boy.  10 

Prince  thou  art :  the  grown-up  man 
Only  is  republican. 


AnaIiYSIS. — 1.  Parse  Blessings  and  man. 
2.  Give  the  case  of  boy.     cheek  of  tan.     What  figure  t 
2-8.  Name  the  modiliers  of  boy. 
4.  Dispose  of  the  word  merry. 

6.  What  figure  in  the  line?     What  does  the  line  mcdifyj 
8.  What  does  the  line  modify  ? 

11.  Prince  thou  art.     What  is  tlie  subject? 

12.  Show  the  use  of  the  word  Only. 


?134  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Let  the  niilHon-doU.ircd  ride: 

Barefoot,  trudging  at  his  side, 

Thou  hast  more  than  he  can  buy  Ifl 

In  the  reach  of  ear  and  eye — 

Outward  sunshine,  inward  joy. 

Blessings  on  thee,  barefoot  boy  I 

Oh  for  boyhood's  painless  play, 
Sleep  that  wakes  in  laughing  day,  10 

Health  that  mocks  the  doctor's  rules. 
Knowledge  never  learned  of  schools, — 
Of  the  wild  bee's  morning  chase ; 
Of  the  wild-flower's  time  and  place; 
Flight  of  fowl,  and  habitude  25 

Of  the  tenants  of  the  wood ; 
How  the  tortoise  bears  his  shell ; 
How  the  woodchuck  digs  his  cell ; 
And  the  ground-mole  sinks  his  well ; 
How  the  robin  feeds  her  young;  30 

'       How  the  oriole's  nest  is  hung ; 
Where  the  whitest  lilies  blow; 
Where  the  freshest  berries  grow  ; 
Where  the  groundnut  trails  its  vine; 
Where  the  wood-grape's  clusters  shine;  86 

Of  the  black  wasp's  cunning  way, 
Mason  of  his  walls  of  clay ; 


Analysis.— 13.  What  figure  in  tlie  line?     Parse  miUion-doUai ed, 

14.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  Barcjoot.     trudging,  eta 
What  does  the  phrase  modify? 

15.  Supply  tlie  ellipsis  after  than 
15-17.  Name  tlie  modifiers  of  ha»l 
19    Wliat  rchition  does/o)- exjjreas? 

20.  Give  the  case  of  Sleep.     Innr/hinrj  daij.     What  figure? 
22-39.  Name  each  of  the  modifiers  of  Knoidedgc 

21.  Point  out  tlie  figure  in  the  line. 
24    Explain  the  line. 

25.  Why  habitude  instead  of  habitation  f 

33.  Give  the  meiuung  of  blow  as  used  here. 

37.  f  five  the  grammatical  construction  of  Mason. 


JOHN  O.   WHITTIEB.  33C 

And  the  architectural  plana 

Of  gray  hornet-artisans  I 

For,  eschewing  books  and  tasks,  M 

Nature  answers  all  he  asks. 

Hand  in  hand  with  her  he  walks, 

Face  to  face  with  her  he  talks, 

Part  and  parcel  of  her  joy : 

Blessings  on  the  barefoot  boy  I  45 

Oh  for  boyhood's  time  of  June, 
Crowding  years  in  one  brief  moon 
When  all  things  I  heard  or  saw, 
Me,  their  master,  waited  fori 

I  was  rich  in  flowers  and  trees,  50 

Humming-birds  and  honey-bees ; 
For  my  sport  the  squirrel  played, 
Plied  the  snouted  mole  his  spade; 
For  my  taste  the  blackberry-cone 
Purpled  over  hedge  and  stone;  65 

Laughed  the  brook  for  my  delight 
Through  the  day  and  through  the  night, 
Whispering  at  the  garden-wall, 
Talked  with  me  from  fall  to  fall ; 


Analysis— 38,  39.  What  figure? 

40.  '.renewing,  etc.     What  does  tlie  phrase  modify? 

41.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

42.  Hand  in  hand.     Parse. 

43.  Face  to  face.     Parse. 

44.  Dispose  of  Part  and  parcel. 

46.  Give  the  grammatical  construction  of  for. 

47.  Crowding,  etc.     What  does  this  limit?     Point  out  the  flgurt  la 
Uie  line. 

49.  Give  the  caae  of  master. 

50,  51.  Analyze  the  clause. 

53.  Write  the  Ime  in  prose  order. 

55.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

56.  Laughed  the  brook.     What  figure  ? 

58.  What  figure  in  the  line?     What  does  the  line  modify  f 

59.  \Yliat  is  the  meaning  of  fall  here  ' 


336         STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE, 

Mine  the  sand-rimmed  pickerel  pond;  60 

Mine  the  walnut  slopes  beyond ; 

Mine,  on  bending  orchard  trees, 

Apples  of  Hesperides ! 

Still,  as  my  horizon  grew, 

Larger  grew  my  riches  too :  W 

All  the  world  I  saw  or  knew 

Seemed  a  complex  Chinese  toy, 

Fashioned  for  a  barefoot  boy. 

Oh  for  festal  dainties  spread, 
Like  my  bowl  of  milk  and  bread  70 

(Pewter  spoon  and  bowl  of  wood) 
On  the  doorstone  gray  and  rude  I 
O'er  me,  like  a  regal  tent, 
Cloudy-riljbed,  the  sunset  bent, 

Purple-curtained,  fringed  with  gold,  75 

Looped  in  many  a  wind-swung  fold; 
While  for  music  came  the  play 
Of  the  pied  frogs'  orchestra, 
And  to  light  the  noisy  choir 

Lit  the  fly  his  lamp  of  fire.  90 

I  was  monarch:  pomp  and  joy 
Waited  on  the  barefoot  boy. 


Analysis. — 60.  Point  out  the  alliteration.     V&ne  pickerd  jxn*. 
61.  Dispose  of  Mine. 

64.  Dispose  of  Still.     Explain  the  line. 

65.  Explain  tlie  force  of  too. 

66.  Supply  the  ellipsis. 

67.  Parse  tlie  word  toy. 
70.  Parse  Like  and  bowl. 

72.  On  the  doorstone,  etc.     What  doe.'?  the  phrase  modify? 

73.  Dispose  of  like  and  trnl. 

73-70.  What  figure?     Name  the  modifiers  of  tent. 

77.  Give  the  ^nainniatiral  construction  of  While  and /or. 

78.  What  is  the  meaning  of  ]>ie(lf 

79.  to  li'jht,  etc.     What  does  the  phrase  modify? 

80.  What  fij^Mire  in  the  line? 

81.  82.  Ih  this  sentence  complex  or  compound? 


JOHN  G.   WHITTIER.  337 

Cheerily,  then,  my  little  man, 
Live  and  laugh,  as  boyhood  can. 

Though  the  flinty  slopes  be  hard,  85 

Stubble-speared  the  new-mown  sward, 
Eveiy  morn  shall  lead  thee  through 
Fresh  baptisms  of  the  dew; 
Every  evening,  from  thy  feet 

Shall  the  cool  wind  kiss  the  heat:  9U 

All  too  soon  these  feet  must  hide 
In  the  ])rison-cells  of  pride; 
Lose  the  freedom  of  tlie  sod ; 
Ijike  a  colt's,  for  work  be  shod; 

Made  to  tread  the  mills  of  toil,  96 

Up  and  down  in  ceaseless  moil, 
Happy  if  their  track  be  found 
Never  on  forbidden  ground  ; 
Happy  if  they  sink  not  in 

Quick  and  treacherous  sands  of  sin.  100 

Ah  that  thou  couldst  know  thy  joy 
Ere  it  passes,  barefoot  boy  I 


Analysis. — ?3.  What  part  of  speech  is  Ihenf    Give  the  caae  of 
V>an. 

84.  Parse  as.     Complete  tlie  verb. 

85.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

86.  Supply  tlie  verb. 

87.  Point  out  the  fi<,Mires. 
85-88.  Analyze  the  sentence. 
89  90.  Point  out  the  ligure. 

91  What  part  of  speecli  is  Allf 

92  Point  out  tlie  figure  in  tlie  line. 

93  Lose.    Give  the  mode  and  the  tense, 

94  be  shod.     In  what  mode  and  tense?     Parse /iA/ 

95.  Parse  Made. 

96.  Dispose  of  Up  and  dmcn.     What  is  the  meaning  o(  moU  f 

97.  What  is  the  antet-edent  of  their  f 
99.  Name  the  antecedent  of  they. 

100.  Point  out  an  example  of  ]>oetic  license 

JOl.  that  thou,  etc.     What  kind  of  chiuse?     What  is  the  subject? 
22 


7.  OLIVER    WENDELL    HOLMES, 

1809-1804. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  a  witty  and  brilliant  writer 
of  both  prase  and  poetry,  was  born  at  Cambridge,  Massa- 
chusetts, on  the  29th  of  August,  1809.  He  was  educated 
partly  at  Phillips  Academy,  Exeter,  and  then  graduated 
at  Harvard  in  1829.  After  leaving  Harvard  he  spent  a 
year  in  the  study  of  law,  when  he  abandoned  that  pro- 
fession and  chose  the  profession  of  medicine  instead. 
During  the  year  1830,  while  studying  law,  he  contrib- 
uted a  number  of  witty  poems  to  'Flie  Collegian,  a  period- 
ical published  by  the  undergraduates  of  Harvard  Uni- 
versity. 

In  1833,  Holmes  visited  Europe,  residing  chiefly  in 
Paris,  where  he  pursued  his  medical  studies.  On  his 
return  to  America,  in  1836,  he  took  his  medical  degree 
at  Harvard  University,  and  two  years  later  became  Pro- 
fessor of  Anatomy  and  Pbysiology  at  Dartmouth  Col- 
lege. He  held  this  position  until  the  time  of  his  mar- 
riage, in  1840,  when  he  removed  to  Boston,  and  there 
won  much  success  as  a  practicing  piiysician.  In  1847 
he  was  made  Professor  of  Anatomy  and  Physiology  in 
Harvard,  a  post  which  he  has  filled  with  honor  ever 
since. 

Dr.  Holmes  has  won  distinction  not  only  as  a  pro- 
fessional man,  but  also  as  a  writer  on  subjects  related  to 
his  profession.  He  is,  however,  best  known  to  the  pub- 
lic by  his  purely  literary  productions.  His  lyrics,  such 
as  Old  [ronsules.  Union  and  Libert;/,  Welcome  lo  the  Nations 
?,Zi 


OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES,  389 

etc.,  are  not  only  spirited,  but  also  among  the  most 
beautiful  in  our  language;  and  his  humorous  poems, 
including  the  One-Hoss  Shay,  Lending  an  Old  Panch-Boivl, 
My  Aunt,  The  Boys,  and  many  others,  are  characterized 
by  a  vivacious  and  sparkling  wit  which  makes  their 
drollery  irresistible. 

Dr.  Holmes's  prose  works  are  written  in  a  vein  which 
proves  him  to  be  original  not  only  in  thought,  but  also 
in  expression,  and  the  succession  of  brilliant  pictures 
with  which  he  entertains  the  reader  fills  one  with  de- 
light. His  principal  prose  works  are  The  Autocrat  of  the 
Breakfast-Table,  originally  contributed  to  the  Atlantic 
Monthly ;  The  Professor  at  the  Breakfast- Table;  Elsie  Venner, 
a  novel ;  The  Guardian  Angel,  a  novel ;  and  The  Poet  at 
the  Breakfast- Table, — all  of  which  have  been  hailed  with 
delight  and  enthusiasm. 


CRITICISM  BY  JOHN  G.  WHITTIER. 

Dr.  Holmes  has  been  likened  to  Thomas  Hood ;  but 
there  is  little  in  common  between  them,  save  the  power 
of  combining  fancy  and  sentiment  with  grotesque  droll- 
ery and  humor.  Hood,  under  all  his  whims  and  odd- 
ities, conceals  the  vehement  intensity  of  a  reformer. 
The  iron  of  the  world's  wrongs  has  entered  into  his 
soul.  There  is  an  undertone  of  sorrow  in  his  lyrics. 
His  sarcasm,  directed  against  oppression  and  bigotry,  at 
times  betrays  the  earnestness  of  one  whose  own  withers 
have  been  wrung.  Holmes  writes  simply  for  the  amuse- 
ment of  himself  and  his  readers.  He  deals  only  with 
the  vanities,  the  foibles,  and  the  minor  faults  of  man- 
kind, good-naturedly  and  almost  sympathizingly  sug- 
gesting excuses  for  folly,  which  he  tosses  about  on  the 
horns  of  his  ridicule.  Long  may  he  live  to  make  broader 
the  face  of  our  care-ridden  generation,  and  to  realize  for 


340       STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

himself  the  truth  of  the  wise  man's  declaration,  that  "  A 
merry  heart  is  a  continual  feast "  1 

THE  CHAMBERED  NAUTILUS. 

KoTE. — Dr.  Holmes  has  said  of  this  poem,  "  If  you  Will  remembte* 
me  by  the  '  Chambered  Nautilus,'  your  memory  will  be  a  monument 
I  shal    tlxink  more  of  than  any  bronze  or  marble." 

I. 

This  is  the  ship  of  pearl,  which,  poets  feign, 

Sails  the  unshadowed  main, — 

The  venturous  bark  that  flings 
On  the  sweet  summer  wind  its  purpled  wings 
In  gulfs  enchanted,  where  the  siren  sings,  5 

And  coral  reefs  lie  bare, 
Where  the  cold  sea-maids  rise  to  sun  their  streaming  hair. 

II. 
Its  webs  of  living  gauze  no  more  unfurl, — 

Wrecked  is  the  ship  of  jiearl  I 

And  every  chambered  cell,  10 

Where  its  dim  dreaming  life  was  wont  to  dwell, 
As  the  frail  tenant  shaped  his  growing  shell, 


Analysis. — 1.  Point  out  the   figure  in   the   line.     poeU  feign. 
What  kind  of  clause? 

2.  main.     Parse  this  word. 

3.  Give  the  case  of  bark. 

4  Why  sweet  summer  f    What  figure  ? 

5  siren  smr/.s.     Exj)lain  the  moaning  of  tliis. 

6.  Supply  the  ellipKis.     What  kind  of  adjective  Is  baref 

7.  What  is  tlie  meaning  of  sea-mai<hf 

8  What  figure  in  the  line?     Parse  more. 

9  Why  is  this  sentence  reversed  ? 
IC.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

11.  Give  the  meaning  of  was  wont.     What  figure  in  the  line? 

12.  What  is  meant  by  the  frail  tenant  f 


OLIVER    WENDELL  HOLMES.  341 

Before  thee  lies  revealed, — 
Its  irised  ceiling  rent,  its  sunless  crypt  unsealed  I 

III. 
Year  after  year  beheld  the  silent  toil  15 

That  spread  his  lustrous  coil ; 
Still,  as  the  spiral  grew, 
He  left  the  past  year's  dwelling  for  the  new, 
Stole  with  soft  step  its  shining  archway  through, 

Built  up  its  idle  door,  20 

Stretched  in  his  last-found  home,  and  knew  the  old  no  more. 

IV. 

Thanks  for  the  heavenly  message  brought  by  thee, 

Child  of  the  wandering  sea. 

Cast  from  her  lap  forlorn  I 
From  thy  dead  lips  a  clearer  note  is  borne  26 

Than  ever  Triton  blew  from  wreathM  horn  I 

While  on  mine  ear  it  rings. 
Through  the  deep  caves  of  thought  I  hear  a  voice  that  sings : 

V. 
Build  thee  more  stately  mansions,  O  my  soul, 

As  the  swilt  seasons  roll  I  30 


Analysis. — 14.  irised  ceiling.  What  is  the  meaning?  What  is 
the  meaning  of  Hunle^m  crypt  f 

15.  Dispose  of  Year  after  year. 

17.  Dispose  of  the  word  SliU.     Give  a  synnnyra  of  (jrew. 

19,  20.  Name  the  subject  of  Stole  and  Bailt.  What  is  the  meaning 
of  idle  here  ? 

21.  Explain  tlie  use  of  viore  as  here  used. 

22  Parse  Thanks. 

23  In  what  case  is  Oiild  f 

24  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line.     Parse  the  word  Oast, 

26  Who  was  Triton  f  What  is  the  efTect  of  the  accent-mark  crer 
I  in  wreathM. 

27.  What  does  the  line  modify? 

28.  caves  of  thought.     What  figure  ? 

29.  How  is  thee  governed  ? 

30    What  does  the  Tine  modify? 


342        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LriERATVRE. 

Leave  thy  low-vaulted  past  I 
Let  each  new  temple,  nobler  than  the  last, 
Shut  thee  from  heaven  with  a  dome  more  vast. 

Till  thou  at  length, art  free, 
Leaving  thine  outgrown  shell  by  life's  unresting  sea  I        8S 


Analysis. — 31.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 

82    What  figure  in  the  line  ?     Parse  nobler. 

33.  In  what  mode  is  shut  f     Conii)lete  the  comparison  with  more. 

84    Of  what  is  this  line  a  moditier? 

84,  35.  Mention  the  adjuncts  of  thou. 


THE  LAST  LEAF. 

I  SAW  him  once  before 
As  he  passed  by  the  door ; 

And  again 
The  pavement-stones  resound 
As  he  totters  o'er  the  ground  • 

With  his  cane. 

They  say,  that  in  his  prime, 
Ere  the  pruning-knife  of  Time 

Cut  him  down, 
Not  a  better  man  was  found  10 

By  the  crier  on  his  round 

Through  the  town. 

But  now  he  walks  the  streets. 
And  he  looks  at  all  he  meets, 

Sad  and  wan  ;  16 

And  he  shakes  his  feeble  head. 
That  it  seems  as  if  he  said, 
"  They  are  gone  I" 

The  mossy  marbles  rest 

On  tlie  lips  that  he  has  prest  20 

In  their  bloom  ; 
And  the  names  he  loved  to  hear 
Have  been  carved  for  many  a  year 

On  the  tomb. 


OLIVER    WENDELL  HOLMES.  343 

My  grandmamma  has  said —  25 

Poor  old  lady  I  she  is  dead 

Long  ago — 
That  he  had  a  Roman  nose, 
And  his  cheek  was  like  a  rose 

In  the  snow.  tO 

But  now  his  nose  is  thin, 
And  it  rests  upon  his  chin 

Like  a  staff; 
And  a  crook  is  in  his  back, 
And  a  melancholy  crack  86 

In  his  laugh. 

I  know  it  is  a  sin 
For  me  to  sit  and  grin 

At  him  here  ; 
But  the  old  three-cornered  hat,  40 

And  the  breeches,  and  all  that, 

Are  so  queer  I 

And  if  I  should  live  to  be 
The  last  leaf  upon  the  tree 

In  the  spring,  |5 

Let  them  smile,  as  I  do  now, 
At  the  old  forsaken  bough 

Where  I  cling. 


8.   GEORGE   BANCROFT, 

1800-1891. 

George  Bancroft,  an  eminent  historian,  was  born  at 
U'crcester,  Massachusetts,  October  3,  1800.  His  father, 
who  was  a  Congregational  clergyman,  gave  close  atten- 
tion to  his  son's  education,  placing  him  in  the  academy 
at  Exeter,  where  he  was  prepared  for  college.  So  bril- 
liant was  the  young  historian  that  he  graduated  with 
the  second  honors  of  his  class  at  Harvard  in  1817, 
though  he  was  not  yet  seventeen  years  of  age.  In  the 
following  year  he  went  to  Europe,  and  continued  his 
studies  at  the  universities  of  Guttingen  and  Berlin ; 
and,  having  made  the  tour  of  Germany,  Switzerland, 
Italy,  and  England,  he  returned  to  America  in  1822, 
when  he  was  immediately  made  tutor  of  Greek  at  Plar- 
vard.  He  continued  in  this  jjosition  for  a  year,  and 
then,  with  his  friend  Dr.  J.  G.  Cogswell,  established  tlie 
Round  Hill  Scliool  at  Northampton,  Massachusetts.  The 
duties  of  his  i)osition  as  a  teacher,  however,  were  not 
congenial  to  him,  and,  though  the  school  met  with  a 
fair  degree  of  success,  Bancroft  soon  abandoned  the 
work  and  turned  his  attention  to  politics,  becoming  an 
active  member  of  the  Democratic  party. 

His  first  political  reward  was  his  appointment  by 
President  Van  Buren  as  collector  of  the  i)ort  of  Boston 
in  1838,  whicli  i)osition  lie  held  until  1841.  In  1845, 
President  Polk  jjlaced  him  in  his  cabinet  as  Secretary 
of  the  Navy,  tlie  duties  of  which  position  be  discharged 
with  eminent  ability.  In  the  following  year  he  was  sent 
ns  mirister  to  Kiighmd,  where  lie  remained  until  184.9, 

344 


GEORGE  BANCROFT.  345 

when  he  returned  to  the  United  States.  He  then  took 
up  his  residence  in  the  city  of  New  York,  where  he  de- 
voted himself  to  the  writing  of  his  great  work,  Tlit  His- 
tory of  the  United  States,  the  first  volume  of  which  had 
been  issued  in  18o4.  Bancroft  was,  during  the  admin- 
istration of  President  Grant,  minister-plenipotentiary  to 
Germany, 

This  author  began  his  literary  career  in  1823  by  the 
publication  of  a  volume  of  poems,  which  was  followed 
the  next  year  by  a  translation  of  Heeren's  Reflections  on 
tlie  Politics  of  Ancient  Greece.  But  his  principal  work  is 
his  History  of  the  United  States,  in  ten  volumes — a  book 
which  is  recognized  as  the  standard  record  of  the  origin 
and  growth  of  our  country. 

CRITICISM   BY   DUYCKIXCK. 

The  specialty  of  Mr,  Bancroft's  History  is  its  })rompt 
recognition  and  philosophical  development  of  the  ele- 
ments of  liberty  existing  in  the  country  from  the  settle- 
ment of  the  first  colonists  to  the  matured  era  of  inde- 
pendence. He  traces  this  spirit  in  the  natural  conditions 
of  the  land,  in  men,  and  in  events.  History,  in  his  view, 
is  no  accident  or  chance  concurrence  of  incidents,  but 
an  organic  growth,  which  the  actors  control,  and  to  which 
they  are  subservient.  The  nation  became  free,  he  main- 
tains, from  the  necessity  of  the  human  constitution,  and 
oecause  it  deliberately  willed  to  bo  free The  his- 
tory of  America  is  the  history  of  liberty.  The  author 
never  relaxes  his  grasp  of  this  central  law,  Hence  the 
manly  vigor  and  epic  grandeur  of  his  story. 

With  the  leading  idea  Mr,  Bancroft  associates  the 
most  minute  attention  to  details.  His  page  is  crowded 
with  facts  brought  forward  with  the  air  of  realities  of 
the  time.     He  does  not  disdain  to  cite  in  his  text  the 


346        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

very  words  of  tlie  old  actors  as  thej^  were  uttered  in  the 
ballad,  the  sermon,  the  s])eech,  or  the  newspaper  of  the 
day.  This  gives  verisimilitude  to  his  story.  It  is  a  his- 
tory of  the  people  as  well  as  of  the  state. 

THE  HUDSON  RIVER. 

Note.— Tlie  following  vivid  description  contrasts  the  picture  of 
the  Hudson  Kiver  when  first  discovered  by  Henry  Hudson  in  1609 
with  the  present  condition  of  things  along  the  banks  of  that  beauti- 
ful stream. 

Sombre  forests  shed  a  melancholy  grandeur  over  the 
useless  magnificence  of  Nature,  and  hid,  in  their  deep 
shades,  the  rich  soil  which  the  sun  had  never  warmed. 
No  axe  had  leveled  the  giant  progeny  of  the  crowded 
groves,  in  which  the  fantastic  forms  of  withered  limbs,  6 
that  had  been  blasted  and  riven  by  lightning,  contrasted 
strangely  with  the  verdant  freshness  of  a  younger  growth 
of  branches. 

The  wanton  grapevine,  seeming  by  its  own  power  to 
have  sprung  from  the  earth,  and  to  have  fastened  its  10 
leafy  coils  on  the  top  of  the  tallest  forest  tree,  swung  in 
the  air  with  every  breeze  like  the  loosened  shrouds  of  a 
ship.  Trees  might  everywhere  be  seen  breaking  from 
their  root  in  the  marshy  soil  and  threatening  to  fall 
with  the  first  rude  gust ;  while  the  ground  was  strewn  16 
with  the  ruins  of  former  forests,  over  which  a  profusion 


Analysis. — 1.  Point  out  the  figure  in  this  line. 

2.  Why  useless  vuirjnijicencef 

4.  What  is  the  meaning  of  ffianl  proge-nyf    What  figure? 

6.  tluit  had  been  blasted.     What  does  the  clause  modify? 

9.  What  figure  in  tiie  line?     What  are  the  modifiers  of  seeming  f 
by  itn  omi  ■power.     What  does  the  phrase  modify? 
.1-13.  What  figure  in  these  lines?     Parse  like  and  Mp. 

14.  in  the  marxhy  soil.     What  does  the  phrase  modify? 

15.  What  is  the  office  of  while? 


GEORGE  BANCROFT.  347 

of  wild  flowers  wasted  tlieir  freshness  iu  mockery  of  the 
gloom. 

Reptiles  sported  in  the  stagnant  pools  or  crawled  un- 
harmed over  piles  of  mouldering  trees.  The  spotted  20 
deer  crouched  among  the  thickets,  but  not  to  hide,  for 
there  was  no  pursuer;  and  there  were  none  but  wild 
animals  to  crop  the  uncut  herbage  of  the  productive 
prairies.  Silence  reigned — broken,  it  may  have  been, 
by  the  flight  of  land-birds  or  the  flapping  of  water-  25 
fowl,  and  rendered  more  dismal  by  the  howl  of  beasts 
of  i)rey. 

The  streams,  not  yet  limited  to  a  channel,  spread  over 
sandbars  tufted  witli  copses  of  willow,  or  waded  through 
wastes  of  reeds,  or  slowly  but  surely  undermined  the  30 
groups  of  sycamores  that  grew  by  their  side.  The 
smaller  brooks  spread  out  their  sedgy  swamps,  that 
were  overhung  by  clouds  of  mosquitoes ;  masses  of 
decaying  vegetation  fed  the  exhalations  with  the  seeds 
of  pestilence,  and  made  the  balmy  air  of  the  summer's  35 
evening  as  deadly  as  it  seemed  grateful.  Vegetable  life 
and  death  were  mingled  hideously  together.  The  hor- 
rors of  corruption  frowned  on  the  fruitless  fertility  of 
uncultivated  Nature. 

And  man,  tlie  occupant  of  the  soil,  was  wild  as  the  40 
savage  scene,  in  harmony  with  the  rude  Nature  by 

Anaxysis. — 22.  Parse  there  and  but.    What  are  the  modifieni  of 
nonet 
24-27.  What  are  the  modifiers  of  silence  f 
25.  PuTsejlappiny. 

28  Name  the  modifiere  of  limited. 

29  Name  the  modifiers  of  sand-bara. 

32.  Dispose  of  out. 

33.  Point  out  tlie  figure  in  this  line. 
36.  Parse  deadly  and  (/ratefxil. 

40,  41.  Name  tlie  modifiers  of  man.     Supply  the  ellipsi*. 

41.  Give  the  case  of  nctne.     Wliat  fiyure  in  this  line? 


348  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

which  he  was  surrounded  ;  a  vagrant  over  the  continent, 
in  constant  warfare  with  his  fellow-man  ;  the  bark  of  the 
birch  his  canoe ;  strings  of  shells  his  ornaments,  his 
record,  and  his  coin ;  the  roots  of  the  forest  among  his  41 
resources  for  food ;  his  knowledge  in  architecture  sur- 
{jassed,  both  in  strength  and  durability,  by  the  skill  of 
the  beaver;  bended  saplings  the  beams  of  his  house; 
the  branches  and  rind  of  trees  its  roof;  drifts  of  forest- 
leaves  his  couch ;  mats  of  bulrushes  his  protection  50 
against  the  winter's  cold  ;  his  religion  the  adoration  of 
Nature;  his  morals  the  promptings  of  undisciplined 
instinct;  disputing  with  the  wolves  and  bears  the  lord- 
ship of  the  soil,  and  dividing  with  the  squirrel  the  wild 
fruits  with  which  the  universal  woodlands  abounded.       65 

How  changed  is  tlie  scene  from  that  on  which  Hud- 
son gazed!  The  earth  glows  with  the  colors  of  civiliza- 
tion; the  banks  of  tlie  streams  are  enameled  with  rich- 
est grasses ;  woodlands  and  cultivated  fields  are  harmo- 
niously blended;  the  birds  of  spring  find  their  delight 60 
in  orchards  and  trim  gardens,  variegated  with  choicest 
plants  from  every  temperate  zone;  while  the  brilliant 
flowers  of  the  tropics  bloom  from  the  windows  of  the 
green-house  and  the  saloon. 

The  yeoman,  living  like  a  good  neighbor  near  the  65 
fields  he  cultivates,  glories  in  the  fruitfulness  of  the  val- 

Analvsis. — 42,  43.  Supply  the  ellipsis,     in  constant  warfare,  etc. 
W'liat  does  the  phrase  inodity? 
43.  (he  baric,  etc.     What  is  the  siihject  of  the  clause? 
43-55.  Supply  the  ellijjses  in  these  clauses. 

56.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

57.  Give  the  meaning  of  gltiu-K.     Si)ecify  the  colors  of  cit-'iiMtion. 

58.  enameled.     How  enamdtil  f 

61.  trim  gardcnn.     Give  a  synonym  for  trim. 

64.  What  is  the  meaning  of  .suloon  a.-^  here  used? 

65.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 
6U.  What  lig  ire  in  llie  line? 


GEORGE  BANCROFT.  349 

leys,  and  counts,  with  honest  exultation,  the  flock!^  and 
herds  that  browse  in  safety  on  the  hills.  Tin;  thorn  has 
given  way  to  the  rosebush ;  the  cultivated  vine  clam- 
bers over  rocks  where  the  brood  of  serpents  used  to  70 
nestle;  while  Industry  smiles  at  the  changes  she  has 
wrought,  and  inhales  the  bland  air  which  now  has 
health  on  its  wings. 

And  man  is  still  in  harmony  with  Nature,  which  he 
has  subdued,  cultivated,  and  adorned.  For  him  the  75 
rivers  that  flow  to  remotest  climes  mingle  their  waters; 
for  him  the  lakes  gain  new  outlets  to  the  ocean  ;  for  him 
the  arch  spans  the  flood  and  science  spreads  iron  path- 
ways to  the  recent  wilderness ;  for  him  the  hills  yield 
up  the  shining  marble  and  the  enduring  granite;  forSC 
him  the  forests  of  the  interior  come  down  in  immense 
rafts ;  for  him  the  marts  of  the  city  gather  the  produce 
of  every  clime,  and  libraries  collect  the  works  of  genius 
of  every  language  and  every  age. 

The  passions  of  society  are  chastened  into  purity ;  85 
manners  are  made  benevolent  by  civilization ;  and  the 
virtue  of  the  country  is  the  guardian  of  its  peace.  Sci- 
ence investigates  the  powers  of  every  plant  and  mineral 
to  find  medicines  for  disease;  schools  of  surgery  rival 
the  establishments  of  the  Old  World.  90 

An  active  daily  press,  vigilant  from  party  interests, 


Analysis. — 68.  Give  a  synonym  for  browse. 

68,  69.  The  thorn  has  yiven  way  to  the  rosebush.   Expresfc  the  ihougbt 
In  diflierent  wt^nls. 

71.  Point  ont  tiie  figure  in  tlie  line. 

72.  blnnd  air.     What  is  tlie  meaning? 
74-84    What  extended  tignre  in  these  lines? 

86,  87.  Point  out  the  tignre  in  these  lines. 

87,  88.  Science  invent igntes,  etc.     What  figure? 
91.  Name  the  modifiers  of  press. 

91,  92.  Point  out  the  figure. 


350        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

free  even  to  dissoluteness,  watches  ihe  progress  of  soci« 
ety  and  communicates  every  fact  that  can  interest  hu- 
manity; the  genius  of  letters  begins  to  unfold  his 
powers  in  the  warm  sunshine  of  public  favor.  And,  95 
while  idle  curiosity  may  take  its  walk  in  shady  avenues 
by  the  ocean-side,  commerce  pushes  its  wharves  into  the 
sea,  blocks  up  the  Avide  rivers  with  its  fleets,  and,  send- 
ing its  ships,  the  pride  of  naval  architecture,  to  every 
clime,  defies  every  wind,  outrides  every  tempest,  and  100 
invades  every  zone. 


Analysis. — 94.  c/enius  of  letters.    What  is  the  meaning? 
95-101.  Point  out  the  figures  in  tliese  lines. 

98,  99.  mndintj  Ha  shijw.     What  does  the  phrase  modify? 

99.  With  what  is  pride  in  apposition  ? 


9.  WILLIAM    H.  PRESCOTT, 

1796-1859. 

WiiiLiAM  HiCKLiNQ  Prescott,  the  great  historian,  v^as 
Dorn  in  Salem,  Massachusetts,  on  the  4th  of  May,  1796. 
His  father,  William  Prescott,  was  a  distinguished  jurist, 
and  his  grandfather  was  Colonel  William  Prescott,  who 
commanded  the  American  troops  at  the  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill.  The  father  having  removed  with  his  family  to 
Boston,  the  son  received  his  education  in  the  schools  of 
that  city  and  at  Harvard  University,  where  he  graduated 
with  honor  in  1814, 

It  was  young  Prescott's  intention  to  follow  his  father's 
profession,  but  near  the  close  of  his  school-life  one  of 
his  fellow-collegians  in  throwing  a  bread-crust  struck 
one  of  Prescott's  eyes,  which  was  at  once  rendered  al- 
most wholly  sightless,  and  the  sight  of  the  other  became 
impaired  through  sympathy.  He  now  spent  two  years 
in  Europe,  partly  in  search  of  medical  advice,  visiting 
England,  France,  and  Italy,  but  his  painful  infirmity 
was  found  to  be  beyond  relief. 

On  his  return  to  America  he  determined  to  become 
an  historian,  and  for  ten  years  he  devoted  himself 
assiduously  to  the  study  of  the  literature  of  France, 
Italy,  and  Spain,  much  of  the  time  being  com})elled  to 
employ  a  reader,  to  whom  he  dictated  copious  notes 
which  he  afterward  employed  in  liis  comi)osition.  Pres- 
cott chose  for  his  first  subject  The  Reign  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella.  This  history  appeared  in  three  volumes 
in  1837,  and  so  popular  was  it  that  it  was  almost  imme- 

361 


352        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

diately  translated  and  reprinted  in  France,  Germany, 
and  Spain. 

In  1843  his  reputation  was  still  further  extended  by 
the  publication  of  his  History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico^ 
which  was  followed  in  1847  by  the  History  of  the  Con- 
qiiest  of  Peru. 

Prescott  in  1850  made  a  second  visit  to  England, 
where  he  was  most  cordially  received,  the  University  of 
Oxford  conferring  on  him  the  honorary  degree  of  LL.D. 
His  travels  on  tliis  tour  extended  also  to  the  Continent. 

In  1855,  Prescott  published  the  first  two  volumes  of 
his  last  and  probably  his  greatest  book,  The  History  of 
Philip  iJie  Second.  A  third  volume  was  issued  in  1858, 
but  the  great  author  did  not  live  to  complete  the  work. 
On  the  28th  of  January,  1859,  while  sitting  alone  in  his 
library,  he  was  smitten  with  paralysis,  from  the  effects 
of  which  he  died  in  a  few  hours. 

In  addition  to  his  histories,  Prescott  published  also  a 
volume  of  Biographical  and  Critical  Miscellanies,  includ- 
ing an  excellent  essay  on  Spanish  literature. 

No  historian  has  been  more  eagerly  read  than  Pres- 
cott— a  fact  due  largely  to  the  excellence  of  his  style,  in 
which  he  has  the  }iapj)y  faculty  of  investing  the  driest 
details  of  history  with  the  highest  charms  of  fiction, 

CRITICISM    ("CHAi\IBERS'S  CYCLOP/EDIA   OF  ENG- 
LISH  LITERATURE"). 

As  an  historian  Prescott  may  rank  with  Robertson  as 
a  master  of  the  art  of  narrative,  while  he  excels  him  in 
the  variety  and  extent  of  Ids  illustrative  researches. 
He  wiis  happy  in  the  choice  of  his  subjects.  The  very 
names  of  Castile  and  Arragon,  Mexico  and  Peru,  possess 
a  romantic  charm,  and  the  characters  and  scenes  he  de- 
picts have  the  interest  and  splendor  of  the  most  goi> 


WILLIAM  H.  PRESCOTT.  363 

geous  fiction.  To  some  extent  the  American  historian 
fell  into  the  error  of  Robertson  in  palliating  the  enor- 
mous cruelties  that  marked  the  career  of  the  Spanish 
conquerors;  but  he  is  more  careful  in  citing  his  author- 
ities, in  order,  as  he  says,  "  to  put  the  reader  in  a  pi»si- 
tion  for  judging  for  himself,  and  thus  revising,  and,  if 
need  be,  for  reversing,  the  judgments  of  the  historian." 

QUEEN   ISABELLA. 
Note. — This  extract  is  taken  from  the  first  published  of  Pres* 
OOtt's  works,   The  Reign  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 

Her  person  was  of  the  middle  height,  and  well  pro- 
portioned. She  had  a  clear,  fresh  complexion,  with 
light-blue  eyes  and  auburn  hair — a  style  of  beauty  ex- 
ceedingly rare  in  Spain.  Her  features  were  regular, 
and  universally  allowed  to  be  uncommonly  handsome.  5 
The  illusion  which  attaches  to  rank,  more  especially 
when  united  with  engaging  manners,  might  lead  us  to 
suspect  some  exaggeration  in  the  encomiums  so  liberally 
lavished  on  her;  but  they  would  seem  to  be  in  a  great 
measure  justified  by  the  portraits  that  remain  of  her,  10 
which  combine  a  faultless  symmetry  of  features  with 
singular  sweetness  and  intelligence  of  expression. 

Her  manners  wore  most  gracious  and  pleasing.    They 
were  marked  by  natural  dignity  and  modest  reserve, 


Analysis. — L  Substitute  another  word  for  person. 

Ij  2.  of  the  middle  height  and  well  proportioned.  Should  not  these 
two  expressions  have  tlie  same  construction  ? 

3.  What  kind  of  adjective  is  lighl-blue  ?  With  what  is  the  word 
atyU  in  apposition  ? 

5.  Substitute  a  word  for  unlversidhj.  Is  allowed  the  best  word  to 
express  the  meaning  here?     Give  synon}'ms  for  tlie  word   handfome. 

6.  which  attaches  to  rank.     Reconstruct  this  expression. 

10.  the  portraits  that  remain  of  her.     Criticise. 

11.  which  combine,  etc.     Is  the  clause  restrictive  or  non-rcntrictive  ? 

2;i 


354        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE- 

tempered  by  an  affability  which  flowed  from  the  kind- 14 
ness  of  her  disposition.  She  was  the  last  person  to  be 
approached  with  undue  'familiarity,  yet  the  respect 
which  she  imposed  was  mingled  with  the  strongest 
feelings  of  devotion  and  love.  She  showed  great  tact 
in  accommodating  herself  to  the  peculiar  situation  and  20 
character  of  those  around  her. 

She  appeared  in  arms  at  the  head  of  lier  troops,  and 
shrank  from  none  of  the  hardships  of  war.  During  the 
reforms  introduced  into  the  religious  houses  she  visited 
the  nunneries  in  person,  taking  her  needlework  with  25 
her  and  passing  the  day  in  the  society  of  the  inmates. 
When  traveling  in  Galicia  she  attired  herself  in  the 
costume  of  the  country,  borrowing  for  that  purpose  the 
jewels  and  other  ornaments  of  tlie  ladies  there,  and 
returning  them  with  liberal  additions.  By  this  con-  30 
descending  and  captivating  deportment,  as  well  as  by 
her  higher  qualities,  she  gained  an  ascendency  over  her 
turbulent  subjects  which  no  king  of  Spain  could  ever 
boast. 

She  spoke  the  Castilian  with  much  elegance  and  cor-  35 
rectness.  She  had  an  easy  fluency  of  discourse,  which, 
though  generally  of  a  serious  complexion,  was  occa- 
sionally seasoned  with  agreeable  sallies,  some  of  which 
have  passed  into  proverbs.  She  was  temperate  even  to 
abstemiousness  in  her  diet,  seldom  or  never  tasting  wine,  40 

Analysis. — 15.  Paree  the  word  tempered,    which  floxoed,  etc.     \m 
thifl  restrictive  or  not? 

17,  18.  rejtpsel  which  she  impose<L     Improve  this  expressioik 
19.  Give  the  meaning  of  tact. 

31.  Parse  as  wfU  as. 

32.  What  is  the  meaning  of  h!;/lier  a.s  liere  iiseil  ? 
34.  booAt.     Ih  this  truiisitive  or  intransitive? 

Sfi.  What  is  the  aiite<«flent  of  which  f 

37.  Suhstitiite  a  wonl  for  emu  pi  fj  ion. 

39,  40    6'Ae  ....  idcl.     Wrile  lliis  chuise  in  iinoliier  form. 


WILLIAM  H.   PRESCOTT.  355 

anil  so  frugal  in  her  table  that  the  clail5>  expenses  for 
herself  and  family  did  not  exceed  the  moderate  sum  of 
forty  ducats.  She  was  equally  simple  and  economical 
in  her  apparel.  On  all  public  occasions,  indeed,  she  dis- 
played a  royal  magnificence,  but  she  had  no  relish  for  45 
it  in  private,  and  she  freely  gave  away  her  clothes  and 
jewels  as  presents  to  her  friends. 

Naturally  of  a  sedate  though  cheerful  temper,  she  had 
little  taste  for  the  frivolous  amusements  which  make  up 
so  much  of  a  court-life  ;  and  if  she  encouraged  the  pres-  50 
ence  of  minstrels  and  musicians  in  her  palace,  it  was  to 
wean  her  young  nobility  from  the  coarser  and  less  intel- 
lectual pleasures  to  which  they  were  addicted.  Among 
her  moral  qualities  the  most  conspicuous,  perhaps,  was 
her  magnanimity.  She  betrayed  nothing  little  or  selfish  55 
in  thought  or  action.  Her  schemes  were  vast,  and  exe- 
cuted in  the  same  noble  spirit  in  which  they  were  con- 
ceived. 

She  never  employed  doubtful  agents  or  sinister  meas- 
ures, but  the  most  direct  and  open  policy.  She  scorned  60 
to  avail  herself  of  advantages  offered  by  the  perfidy  of 
others.  Where  she  had  once  given  her  confidence,  she 
gave  her  hearty  and  steady  support,  and  she  was  scru- 
pulous to  redeem  any  pledge  she  had  made  to  those  who 
ventured  in  her  cause,  however  unpopular.  She  sus-  65 
tained  Ximencs  in  all  his  obnoxious  but  salutary  re- 
forms. She  seconded  Columbus  in  the  prosecution  of 
his  arduous  enterprise,  and  shielded  him  from  the 
calumnies  of  his   enemies.      She  did   the  same  good 


Analysis. — 41.  frugal  in  her  table.     What  figure? 
41,  42.  for  herxelf  and  family.     Is  the  jilirase  correct? 
48.  Naturally,  etc.     Supply  the  ellii)sis. 
53,  54.  Is  this  seutence  periodic  or  loose  ? 
56,  57.  Parse  the  word  executed. 
67.  Substitute  a  word  for  seconded. 


356        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

service  to  her  favorite,  Gonsalvo  de  Cordova,  and  the 70 
day  of  her  death  was  felt — and,  as  it  proved,  truly  felt 
— by  both  as  the  last  of  their  good-fortune.  Artifice 
and  duplicity  were  so  abhorrent  to  her  character,  and 
6D  averse  from  her  domestic  policy,  that  when  they 
appear  in  the  foreign  relations  of  Spain,  it  is  certainly  76 
not  imputable  to  her.  She  was  incapable  of  harboring 
any  petty  distrust  or  latent  malice ;  and  although  stern 
in  the  execution  and  exaction  of  public  justice,  she  made 
the  most  generous  allowance,  and  even  sometimes  ad- 
vances, to  those  who  had  personally  injured  her.  80 

But  the  principle  which  gave  a  peculiar  coloring  to 
every  feature  of  Isabella's  mind  was  piety.  It  shone 
forth  from  the  very  depths  of  her  soul  witli  a  heavenly 
radiance  which  illuminated  her  wliole  cliaracter.  For- 
tunately, her  earliest  years  had  been  passed  in  the  rug-  85 
ged  school  of  adversity,  under  the  eye  of  a  mother  who 
implanted  in  her  serious  mind  such  strong  principles  of 
religion  as  nothing  in  after  life  had  power  to  shake.  At 
an  early  age,  in  the  flower  of  youth  and  beauty,  slie  was 
introduced  to  her  brother's  court,  but  its  blandisliments,  90 
BO  dazzling  to  a  young  imagination,  had  no  power  over 
hers,  for  she  was  surrounded  by  a  moral  atmosphere  of 
purity,  driving  far  oflf  each  thing  of  sin  and  guilt.  Such 
was  the  decorum  of  her  manners  that  though  encom- 
passed by  false  friends  and  open  enemies,  not  the  slights  95 
est  reproach  was  l>reathed  on  her  fair  name  in  this  cor- 
rupt and  calumnious  court. 


Analysis. — 74.  averse  from.     Substitute  a  word  for  avase. 

81.  a  perMliar  coloring.     What  figure? 

8!L  8;i  shone  forth.     Dispose  o(  f>rth.     What  figure  in  the  line? 

83.  depclis  of  her  so%U.     What  figure? 

85,  86.  rvgged  school  of  adversity.     Point  out  the  figure. 

89.  in  the  doner  of  youth  and  beauty.     What  liguie? 

90.  her  brother's  (vurt.     What  figure? 


10.   JOHxN    LOTHROP   MOTLEY, 

1814^1877. 

J  ,^N  LoTHROP  Motley,  one  of  America's  most  emi« 
nent  historians,  was  born  at  Dorchester,  Massachusetts, 
April  15,  1814.  He  graduated  from  Harvard  College  ia 
1831,  when  he  w^^s  but  seventeen  years  of  age.  After 
graduation  he  spent  three  years  in  Europe  preparing 
for  his  great  work  as  an  author,  and  then  returning  to 
America,  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1836.  His  first 
published  books  were  Morton's  Hope  and  Merry  Mount. 
issued  about  the  year  1839,  both  works  of  some  merit, 
but  so  greatly  inferior  to  his  histories  that  they  are  now 
comparatively  forgotten. 

Motley's  first  great  work  was  the  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Re- 
public. It  was  published  in  1856,  in  three  volumes,  its 
author  having  devoted  fifteen  j^ears  of  study  and  re- 
search in  the  preijaration  of  the  work.  The  success 
of  this  histor}'^  was  instantaneous  in  both  England  and 
America.  It  was  translated  and  published  also  in  Dutch, 
German,  and  French.  The  author  was  comparatively 
young  and  unknown,  but  it  at  once  establislied  his 
fame  as  an  historical  writer  of  the  highest  order. 

In  1865  he  pu])lished  his  History  of  the  Unit&i  Nether- 
lands, from  the  Death  of  William  the  Silent  to  the  Synod  f 
Dort,  and  in  1874  he  added  2'he  Life  and  Death  of  Banie- 
veld.  Advocate  of  Holland.  Both  of  these,  like  his  first 
published  history,  were  written  in  that  brilliant  and 
vigorous  style  which  places  him  in  the  foremost  rank 
not  only  as  an  historian,  but  also  as  a  master  of  pure, 
strong,  eloquent  English. 

357 


358  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURK 

Mr.  Motley  filled  a  number  of  governmental  positions 
abroad,  chief  among  them  that  of  rainister-j)lenipoten- 
tiary  to  Austria  from  1861  to  1867,  ai:d  to  England  from 
1869  to  1870,  when,  through  a  change  of  administration, 
he  was  recalled.  He  was  honored  with  the  degree  D.  G.  L. 
by  Oxford,  and  with  the  degree  LL.D.  by  the  univer- 
eities  of  botli  Cambridge  and  New  York.  After  his  with- 
drawal from  political  life,  in  1870,  he  lived  as  a  private 
citizen  to  the  time  of  his  death.  May  29,  1877. 

CRITICISM. 
Motley  was  one  of  the  moat  industrious  of  authors. 
The  mass  of  papers  which  he  studied  and  examined 
critically  at  Brussels,  Venice,  and  Paris  for  the  purpose 
of  preparing  liimself  to  write  The  History  of  the  United 
Netherlands  was  enormous,  and  his  great  industry  mani- 
fests itself  in  the  excellence  with  which  he  did  his  work. 
No  other  writer  has  brought  together  such  a  variety  of 
personages  and  such  a  mass,  of  details  into  one  collective 
whole,  and  yet  presented  all  these  substantial  facts  of 
history  with  the  air  of  a  romance.  We  follow  the  fates 
and  fortunes  of  the  various  characters  with  an  interest 
almost  equal  to  that  aroused  by  the  best  works  of  fiction. 
His  style  is  vivid  and  sparkling,  but  sometimes  his  anal- 
ysis of  character  is  so  exliaustive  as  to  lead  almost  to 
repetition.  In  spite  of  this  fault,  however,  his  produc- 
tions are  among  the  greatest  historical  works  ever  written. 

WILLIAM  OF  ORANOE. 

The  history  of  the  rise  of  the  Netherland  Republic 

has  been  at  the  same  time  the  biography  of  William 

the  Silent.     This,  while  it  gives  unity  to  the  narrative, 

renders  an  elaborate  descri])tion  of  his  character  super- 


Analysis. — 3,  4.  What  is  tne  difference  between  narrcUive  and  dt- 
teription  f     Dispose  of  guperfiuuiis. 


JOHN  LOTUROP  MOTLEY.  359 

fluous.    That  life  was  a  noble  Christian  eidc,  inspired  5 
with  one  great  pur]iose  from  its  commencement  to  its 
(lose — the  stream  liowing  ever  from  one  fomitain  with 
expanding  fullness,  but  retaining  all  its  original  purity. 
In  person,  Orange  was  above  the  middle  height,  per- 
fectly well  made   and   sinewy,  but  rather  spare  than  10 
ilout.      His   eyes,   hair,   beard,   and   complexion    were 
brown.      His   head  was  small;  symmetrically   ahaped, 
combining  the  alertness  and  compactness  characteristic 
of  the  soldier  with  tlie  capacious  brow  furrowed  j)rema- 
turely  with  the  liorizontal  lines  of  thought  denoting  tlie  15 
statesman  and  the  sage.     His  physical  appearance  was, 
therefore,  in  harmony  with  his  organization,  which  was 
of  antique  model.     Of  his   moral  qualities,   the   most 
prominent  was  his  piety.     He  was,  more  than  anytiiing 
else,  a  religious  man.     From  his  trust  in  God  he  ever  2(; 
derived  support  and  consolation  in  the  darkest  hours. 
Implicitly  relying  upon  Almighty  Wisdom  and  Good- 
ness, he  looked  danger  in  the  face  with  a  constant  smile, 
and  endured  incessant  labors  and  trials  with  a  serenity 
which  seemed  more  than  human.     While,  however,  his  25 
Boul  was  full  of  piety,  it  was  tolerant  of  error.     Sincere- 
ly and  deliberately  himself  a  convert  to  the  Reformed 
Church,  he  was  ready  to  extend  freedom  of  worship  to 
Catholics  on  one  hand  and  to  Anabaptists  on  the  other ; 

Analysis. — 6.  Point  out  the  fif?ure  in  the  line. 
9.  above  the  miiUUt  hehihl.     AS'iiat  kind  of  phrase? 

14.  furrowed.     What  tiijiire? 

15.  denothuj,  eic.     What  does  the  phrase  modify  ? 
17.  in  harmimy,  etc.     What  kind  of  j)iir!Lse? 

19.  Wliat  are  the  uiodltierfj  of  promin&ilf 

20.  Parse  ehe. 

2C  21.  Rewrite  the  Kciiii'iiiv. 

21    Point  out  the  fi<;ure  in  the  line. 

2o    Dispose  of  vio/-tj  llf.n. 

2t),  27.  Siiicercli,  and  deliberately.     Wiiat  do  these  words  modify  7 


360        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

for  no  man  ever  felt  more  keenly  than  he  that  the  re-  30 
former  who  becomes  in  his  turn  a  bigot  is  doubly  odious. 
His  firmness  was  allied  to  his  piety.  His  constancy  in 
bearing  the  whole  weight  of  a  struggle  as  unequal  as 
men  have  ever  undertaken  was  the  theme  of  admira- 
tion even  to  his  enemies.  The  rock  in  the  ocean,  "  Iran-  35 
quil  amid  raging  billows,"  was  the  favorite  emblem  by 
which  his  friends  expressed  their  sense  of  his  firmness. 
From  the  time  when,  as  a  hostage  in  France,  he  first 
discovered  the  plan  of  Philip  to  plant  the  Inquisition 
in  the  Netherlands,  up  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life,  4'. 
he  never  faltered  in  his  determination  to  resist  that  in- 
iquitous scheme.  This  resistance  was  the  labor  of  his 
life.  To  exclude  the  Inquisition,  to  maintain  the  an- 
cient liberties  of  his  country,  was  the  task  which  he 
appointed  to  himself  wlien  a  youth  of  three-and-twenty.  45 

Never  speaking  a  word  concerning  a  heavenly  mission, 
never  deluding  himself  or  others  witli  the  usual  phrase- 
ology of  enthusiasts,  he  accomplished  the  task  through 
danger,  amid  toils,  and  with  sacrifices  such  as  few  men 
have  ever  been  able  to  make  on  their  country's  altar ;  50 
for  the  disinterested  benevolence  of  the  man  was  as 
prominent  as  his  fortitude. 

A  prince  of  high  rank  and  with  royal  revenues,  ho 
stripped  himself  of  station,  wealth,  almost,  at  times,  of 
the  common  necessaries  of  life,  and  became,  in  his  conn-  66 
try's  cause,  nearly  a  beggar  as  well  as  an  outlaw.     Nor 


Analysis.— 30.  What  is  the  olyect  of  fellf 
35.  Wliat  is  the  force  of  evcnf 

38.  Dispotte  of  when. 

39.  Give  a  synonym  for  planl.     What  was  the  Imjumtionf 
44.  Name  the  subject  of  w(in, 

46-52.  Analyze  this  j)aragraph. 

53.  What  are  the  modifiers  of  hef 

56,  What  does  nearly  modify?     Wiiat  is  tlie  force  of  Norf 


JOnis  ^OTHROP  MOTLEY.  361 

was  he  forced  into  his  career  by  an  accidental  impulse 
from  which  there  was  no  recovery.     Retreat  was  ever 
open  to  liini.     Not  only  pardon,  but  advancement,  was 
urged  upon  bim  again  and  again.     Officially  and  pri-GO 
vatoly,  directly  and  circuitously,  liis  confiscated  estates, 
together  with  indefinite  and  boundless  favors  in  addi- 
tion, were  offered  to  him  on  every  great  occasion      On 
the  arrival  of  Don  John,  at  the  Breda  negotiations,  at 
the  Cologne  conferences,  we  have  seen  how  calmly  these  65 
offers  were  waived  aside,  as  if  their  rejection  was  so  sim- 
ple tliat  it  hardly  required  many  words  for  its  significa- 
tion; yet  he  had  mortgaged  his  estates  so  deeply  that 
his  heirs  hesitated  at  accepting  their  inheritance,  for 
fear  it  should  involve  them  in  debt.     Ten  years  after  7- 
his  death  the  account  between  his  executors  and  hia 
brother  John  amounted  to  one  million  four  hundred 
thousand  florins  due  to  the  count,  secured  by  various 
})ledges  of  real  and  personal  property ;  and  it  was  final- 
ly settled  upon  this  basis.     He  was,  besides,  largely  in-  75 
debted  to  every  one  of  his  powerful  relatives;  so  that 
the  payment  of  the  encumbrances  upon  his  estate  very 
nearly  justified  the  fears  of  his  children.     While  on  tlie 
one  hand,  therefore,  he  poured  out  these  enormous  sums 
like  water,  and  firmly  refused  a  hearing  to  the  templing  80 
offers  of  the  royal  government,  upon  the  other  hand  he 

Analysis. — 60.  Disj)ose  of  again  and  again. 
66-  Name  tlie  iiKxliliers  of  were  waived.     Parse  ait  if. 
68^  69.  that  his  heirs,  etc.     Wliat  does  tlie  clause  modify  ? 
70    should  involve.     Is  should  corrtftly  used  here? 
72.  Parse  uvtounted   to.      Name    llie   complex   adjective    In   the 
\i  ie. 
73    How  much  is  njlorinf 

75  indebted.     Parse. 

76  so  lltal.     Parse. 

79.  Dispose  of  poured  out. 

80.  like  water.     ^Vhat  fiijurel 


3G2        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

proved  the  disinterested  nature  of  hia  services  by  de- 
clining, year  alter  year,  the  sovereignty  over  the  prov- 
inces, and  by  only  accepting  in  the  last  days  of  his  life, 
when  refusal  had  become  almost  impossible,  the  limited  85 
Qmstitutional  supremacy  over  that  portion  of  tliem  which 
LOW  makes  the  realm  of  his  descendants.  He  lived  and 
died,  not  for  himself,  but  for  his  country.  ''God  pity 
this  poor  people  1"  were  his  dying  words. 

His  intellectual  faculties  were  various,  and  of  the  high-  90 
est  order.     He  had  the  exact,  practical,  and  combining 
qualities  which  make  the  great  commander;    and  his 
friends  claimed  that  in  military  genius  he  was  second 
to  no  captain  in  Europe.     Tins  was,  no  doubt,  an  exag- 
geration of  partial    attachment;  but  it  is  certain  that 95 
the  emperor  Charles    had    an  exalted   opinion   of  his 
capacity  for  the  lield.     His  fortification  of  Philippeville 
and  Charlemont  in  the  face  of  the  enemy ;  his  passage 
of  the  Meuse  in  Alva's  sight;  his  unfortunate  but  well- 
ordered   campaign   against   that  general;    his   sublime  100 
plan  of  relief,  projected  and  successfully  directed  at  last 
from  his  sick  bed,  for  the  besieged  city  of  Leyden, — will 
always  remain  monuments  of  his  practical  military  skill. 

The  supremacy  of  his  political  genius  was  entirely 
beyond  question.     He  was  the  first  statesman  of  the  105 ^ 
age.     The  c^uickness  of  his  percei>tion  was  only  equaled 


Analysis. — 83.  Dispose  of  year  after  year. 

84    CrUicLse  tlie  jM)sitit)n  of  only. 

88  89    VVIiHt  iH  the  mibject  of  tlie  clause?     Give  the  mode  of  pfty. 

9(    91    of  l/ie  hif/hest  order.     What  kind  of  ]>hra.se? 

95,  9G.  il  ii  certain,  etc.     What  is  in  apposition  with  it* 

97.  Give  a  synonym  for  capacity  a^j  here  used. 

97-103.  Analyze  the  sentence. 
104.  What  <loes  entirely  modify  ? 
1U5.  beyond  ijiieMion.     What  kind    )f  phra.se? 
lot).  Critici.se  the  position  of  only. 


JOHN  LOTHROP  MOTLEY.  363 

Dy  the  caution  which  enabled  him  to  mature  the  results 
of  his  observations.  His  knowledge  of  human  nature 
was  profound.  He  governed  the  passions  and  senti- 
ments of  a  great  nation  as  if  they  had  been  but  the  110 
keys  and  chords  of  one  vast  instrument;  and  his  hand 
raiely  failed  to  evoke  harmony  even  out  of  the  wildest 
storms.  The  turbulent  city  of  Ghent,  which  could  ol)ey 
no  other  master,  which  even  the  haughty  emperor  could 
only  crush  witliout  controlling,  was  ever  responsive  to  115 
the  muster-hand  of  Orange.  His  presence  scared  away 
Imbize  and  his  bat-like  crew,  confounded  the  schemes 
of  John  Casimir,  frustrated  the  wiles  of  Prince  Chimay; 
and,  while  he  lived,  Glient  was  what  it  ought  always  to 
have  remained — the  bulwark,  as  it  had  been  the  cradle,  12o 
of  popular  liberty.  After  his  death  it  became  its  tomb. 
Ghent,  saved  thrice  by  the  policy,  the  eloquence,  the 
self-sacrifices  of  Orange,  fell,  within  three  months  of  his 
murder,  into  the  hands  of  Parma.  The  loss  of  this 
most  important  city,  followed  in  the  next  year  by  the  125 
downfall  of  Antwerp,  sealed  the  fate  of  the  Southern 
Netherlands.  Had  the  prince  lived,  how  different  might 
have  been  the  country's  fate !  If  seven  provinces  could 
dilate  in  so  brief  a  space  into  the  powerful  common- 
wealth wliich  the  republic  soon  became,  what  might  not  130 
have  been  achieved  by  the  united  seventeen  ? — a  confed- 
eracy which  would  have  united  the  adamantine  vigor  of 


Analysis. — 110.  Parse  hut. 

112-114.  Explain  the  force  of  even  in  each  line. 

116.  What  iigure  in  the  line? 

120.  What  is  the  attrihiite  in  this  clause? 

121.  Give  the  autecedenta  of  it  and  its. 
122-124.  Analyze  the  clause. 

127,  128.  Point  out  the  principal  and  the  subordinate  clause 

131.  In  what  case  is  confederacy  f 

132.  adavuinline  vi(jo)-.     \\'h;il  E:^ure? 


364        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

tlie  Batavian  and  Frisian  races  with  the  subtler,  ir.ore 
delicate,  and  more  graceful  national  elements,  in  which 
the  genius  of  the  Frank,  the  Roman,  and  the  Roman- 135 
ized  Celt  were  so  intimately  blended.  As  long  as  the 
father  of  the  country  lived  such  a  union  was  possible. 
His  power  of  managing  men  was  so  unquestionable 
tliat  there  was  always  a  hope,  even  in  the  darkest  hour; 
for  men  felt  implicit  reliance  as  well  on  his  intellectual  140 
resources  as  on  liis  integrity.  Tliis  power  of  dealing 
with  his  fellow-men  he  manifested  in  the  various  ways 
in  wliicli  it  has  l)een  usually  exhibited  by  statesmen. 
lie  possessed  a  ready  eloquence — soinetinies  impassion- 
ed, oftener  argumentative,  always  rational.  His  influ- 145' 
ence  over  his  audience  was  unexampled  in  the  annals 
of  that  country  or  age;  yet  he  never  condescended  to 
flatter  tlie  people.  He  never  followed  the  nation,  but 
always  led  her  in  the  path  of  duty  and  of  honor ;  and 
was  much  more  prone  to  rebuke  the  vices  than  to  i)an- 150 
der  to  the  passions  of  his  hearers.  He  never  failed  to 
administer  ample  chastisement  to  parsimony,  to  jeal- 
ousy, to  insubordination,  to  intolerance,  to  infidelity, 
wherever  it  was  due ;  nor  feared  to  confront  the  states 
or  the  people  in  their  most  angry  hours,  and  to  tell  155 
them  the  truth  to  their  faces.  This  commanding  posi- 
tion he  alone  could  stand  ui)on;  for  his  countrymen 
knew  the  generosity  which  had  sacrificed  his  all  for 


Analysis. — 135,  13fi.  Wlio  are  uieuiU  l)y  (he  Frank,  tht   Romfm. 
and  the  Rnnuinized  Cell  f 

139.  Disjiose  of  Ikere  and  even, 

139.  Point  out  the  fif^ure  in  this  line. 

149.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

150,  151.  AVhiit  is  the  me.aning  of  pander  f 
151-16.3.  Analyze  th&se  lines. 

155.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 
168.  Parse  oi/. 


JOHN  LOTHROP  MOTLEY.  365 

them ;  the  self-denial  which  had  eluded  rather  than 
Bought  political  advancement,  whether  from  king  orloO 
people  j  and  the  untiring  devotion  which  had  conse- 
crated a  whole  life  to  toil  and  danger  in  the  cause  of 
their  emancipation.  While,  therefore,  he  was  e\er 
read}  to  rebuke,  and  always  too  honest  to  flatter,  he  at 
(he  same  time  possessed  the  eloquence  which  could  165 
convince  or  persuade.  He  knew  how  to  reacli  both 
the  mind  and  the  heart  of  his  hearers.  His  orations, 
whether  extemporaneous  or  prepared ;  his  written  mes- 
sages to  the  States-General,  to  the  provincial  author- 
ities, to  the  municipal  bodies ;  his  private  correspond- 170 
ence  with  men  of  all  ranks,  from  emperors  and  kings 
down  to  secretaries,  and  even  children, — all  show  an 
easy  flow  of  language,  a  fullness  of  thought,  a  power. of 
expression  rare  in  that  age,  a  fund  of  historical  allusion, 
a  considerable  power  of  imagination,  a  warmth  of  senti- 175 
ment,  a  breadth  of  view,  a  directness  of  purpose ;  a  range 
of  qualities,  in  short,  which  would  in  themselves  have 
stamped  him  as  one  of  the  master-minds  of  his  century 
had  there  been  no  other  monument  to  his  memory  than 
the  remains  of  his  spoken  or  written  eloquence.  18C 


Analysis. — 159.  Give  the  case  of  self-denial. 

166.  Name  the  object  of  knew. 

172.  Dispose  of  down.  to.    Parse  all.    Name  the  object*  of  nkom. 

177.  Dispose  of  in  ihort. 


11    WILLIAM    ELLERY    CHANNING, 

1780-1842. 

A\'iLi.iAM  Ellery  Channing,  the  popular  and  able 
theologian  and  essayist,  was  the  son  of  William  Chan- 
ning,  a  distinguished  lawyer  of  Newport,  Rhode  Island, 
where  tlie  son  was  born  on  the  7th  of  April,  1780. 
Channing  was  educated  at  Harvard,  where  he  graduated 
with  high  honors  in  1798.  He  was  then,  for  eighteen 
montlis,  private  tutor  in  a  family  in  Richmond,  Vir- 
ginia, and  subsequently,  in  1803,  he  became  pastor  of 
the  Federal  Street  Cliurch  in  Boston.  In  1822  he  vis- 
ited Europe,  where  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Words- 
worth and  Coleridge,  both  of  whom  became  his  ardent 
admirers  and  fast  friends.  It  was  Coleridge  who  said 
of  Channing,  "  He  has  the  love  of  wisdom  and  the  wis- 
dom of  love." 

On  his  return  from  Europe  ne  continued  his  pastoral 
duties  unaided  until  1824,  when  he  received  a  colleague, 
and  from  that  time  forward  he  gave  more  attention  to 
literature. 

Channing  was  a  speaker  and  writer  who  endeared 
himself  to  his  countrymen  not  only  through  iiis  literary 
work,  but  also  by  his  humility  and  excellence  as  a 
Christian  gentleman;  and  it  is  said  that  he  numbered 
people  of  all  sects  among  his  friends.  His  favorite  top- 
ics were  tliose  which  had  more  or  less  bearing  on  Chria- 
tian  pl»i]anthro])y  and  reform.  His  articles  on  Milton, 
Napoleon,  and  F^nelon,  which  appeared  from  1826  to 
182U,  won  for  him  wide  ccle])rity,  as  did  also  his  valu- 
able lectures,  among  the  best  of  them  being  Self-Cultaref 

366 


WILLIAM  ELLERY  CHANNING.  3G7 

first  delivered  in  1839,  and  the  series  on  the  Flecalion  of 
the  Laboring  Classes^  delivered  in  1840.  Channing's  woi  ks 
have  been  translated  into  both  German  and  French, 
and  extensive  editions  have  been  published  in  England, 
France,  and  Germany.  Tlie  most  complete  edition  cf 
his  works  was  that  published  in  Boston  in  1848,  =ix 
jears  after  his  death. 

Channing  died  on  the  2d  of  October,  1842,  while  on  a 
mountain-excursion,  and  was  buried  at  Mount  Auburn, 
where  a  monument,  designed  by  his  friend  Washington 
Allston,  was  erected  to  his  memory. 

CRITICISM  BY  GEORGE  S.  HILLARD. 

Dr.  Channing's  style  is  admirably  suited  for  the  ex- 
position of  moral  and  spiritual  truth.  It  is  rich,  flow- 
ing, and  perspicuous ;  even  its  diffuseness,  wliich  is  its 
obvious  literary  defect,  is  no  disadvantage  in  this  aspect. 
There  is  a  persuasive  charm  over  all  his  writings,  flow- 
ing from  his  earnestness  of  purpose,  his  deep  love  of 
humanity,  his  glowing  hopes,  and  his  fervid  religious 
faith,  lie  has  a  poet's  love  of  beauty  and  a  prophet's 
love  of  truth.  He  lays  the  richest  of  gifts  upon  the 
purest  of  altars.  The  heart  expands  under  his  influ- 
ence, as  it  does  when  we  see  a  beautiful  countenance 
beaming  with  the  finest  expression  of  benevolence  and 
sympatliy. 

He  was  a  man  of  slight  frame  and  delicate  organi- 
sation. His  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  simple  and  im- 
pressive, and  tlie  tones  of  his  voice  were  full  of  sweet- 
ness and  penetrating  power.  He  was  not  one  of  those 
8peak(n's  who  ]iroduce  a  great  efl'ect  upon  those  who 
hear  them  for  the  first  time,  but  those  who  were  accus- 
tomed io  his  teachings  recognized  in  him  all  the  ele- 
ments of  the  highest  eloquence. 


368        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

THE  SENSE  OF  BEAUTY. 

Beauty  is  an  all-pervading  presence.  It  unfolds  in 
the  numberless  flowers  of  the  spring.  It  waves  in  the 
branches  of  the  trees  and  the  green  blades  of  grass.  It 
haunts  the  depths  of  the  earth  and  the  sea,  and  gleams 
out  in  the  hues  of  the  shell  and  the  precious  stone.  And  5 
not  only  these  minute  objects,  but  the  ocean,  the  moun- 
tains, the  cloud,  the  heavens,  the  stars,  the  rising  and 
setting  sun, — all  overflow  with  beauty.  The  universe  is 
its  temple ;  and  those  men  who  are  alive  to  it  cannot 
lift  their  eyes  without  feeling  themselves  encompassed  10 
•with  it  on  every  side.  Now,  this  beauty  is  so  precious, 
the  enjoyments  it  gives  are  so  refined  and  pure,  so  con- 
genial with  our  tendercst  and  most  noble  feelings,  and 
BO  akin  to  worship,  that  it  is  painful  to  think  of  the 
multitude  of  men  as  living  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  living  15 
almost  as  blind  to  it  as  if,  instead  of  this  fair  earth  and 
glorious  sky,  they  were  tenants  of  a  dungeon. 

An  infinite  joy  is  lost  to  the  world  by  the  want  of 
culture  of  this  spiritual  endowment.  Suppose  that  I 
were  to  visit  a  cottage,  and  see  its  walls  lined  with  the  20 
choicest  i)ictures  of  liai)hael,  and  every  spare  nook  filled 
with  statues  of  the  most  excjuisite  workmanship,  and 
that  I  were  to  learn  tliat  neither  man,  woman,  nor  child 
ever  cast  an  eye  at  these  miracles  of  art,  how  should  I 
feel  their  privation  I  how  should  I  want  to  open  their  2fi 

Analysis. — 1.  Point  nut  the  figure  in  the  line. 

1-8.  Notice  the  jiitiiciouH  arrangement  of  short  and  long  sentences. 
fi  the  style  periodic  or  loose? 

9.  Point  out  the  figure  in  tlieline.  What  is  the  meaning  of  alive  to  ii 

11-14.  What  is  the  correlative  of  so  in  line  11  ?  When  are  theM 
two  words  used  correlatively  ? 

16,  17.  of  thif  ....  fky.     Of  what  is  this  pjintse  a  mcwlifipr? 

21.  Who  v^iH  Rnphndf 

25,  20    open  their  eye*,     la  eye.%  iiw-d  figuratively  or  literally  7 


WILLIAM  ELLEEY  CHANNINO.  369 

eyes  and  to  help  them  to  comprehend  and  feel  the  love- 
liness and  grandeur  which  in  vain  courted  their  notice ! 

But  every  husbandman  is  living  in  sight  of  the  works 
of  a  diviner  Artist ;  and  how  much  would  his  existetice 
be  elevated  could  he  see  the  glory  which  shines  forth  in  30 
their  forms,  hues,  proportions,  and  moral  expressioi  ' 

I  have  spoken  only  of  the  beauty  of  Nature,  but  how 
much  of  this  mysterious  charm  is  found  in  the  elegant 
arts,  and  especially  in  literature  !  The  best  books  have 
most  beauty.  The  greatest  truths  are  wronged  if  not  35 
linked  with  beauty  ;  and  they  win  their  way  most  surely 
and  deeply  into  the  soul  when  arrayed  in  this  their 
natural  and  fit  attire.  Now,  no  man  receives  the  true 
culture  of  a  man  in  wliom  the  sensibility  to  the  beauti- 
ful is  not  cherished ;  and  I  know  of  no  condition  in  life  40 
from  which  it  should  be  exckided.  Of  all  luxuries,  this 
is  the  cheapest  and  most  at  hand ;  and  seems  to  me  to 
be  the  most  important  to  those  conditions  where  coarse 
labor  tends  to  give  a  grossness  of  mind.  From  the  dif- 
fusion of  the  sense  of  beauty  in  ancient  Greece,  and  of  46 
the  taste  for  music  in  modern  Germany,  we  learn  that 
the  people  at  large  may  partake  of  refined  gratifications 
which  have  hitherto  been  thought  to  be  necessarily  re- 
stricted to  a  few. 

Analysis. — 27    T)isj)ose  of  in  vain.     Mention  other  elliptical  coa- 
Btxuctinns  of  the  preposition  and  its  oliject. 

2'S.  husbandman.     Give  iin  equivalent  word. 

29.  diviner  ArlisL     To  wliyin  is  reference  made? 

80.  glory.     Is  this  figurative  or  literal  ? 

83,  34.  ele(jnnt  artn.     What  arts  are  referred  to  here? 

35.  What  kind  of  beauty  is  meant  here? 

85-38.  What  figuie  in  tlie.se  lines? 

41,  42.   Of  all  :  .  .  .  hand.     Analyze. 

43,  44.  coor.se  labor.      Why   coarse  f      Explain    what  is  meant  by 
grossness  of  mind. 

47.  partake     Is  the  ineaniiisj;  lliinrative  or  literal? 
24 


12.   RALPH    WALDO    EMERSON, 

1803-1882. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  poet  and  essayist,  was  bcra 
in  Boston,  Massachusetts,  May  25,  1803.  His  prelimi- 
nary education  was  received  in  the  public  schools  of 
Boston,  after  the  completion  of  which  he  entered  Har- 
vard in  1817,  and  graduated  therefrom  in  1821.  The 
following  five  years  were  spent  in  teaching  and  in  pre- 
paration for  the  ministry.  In  March,  1829,  he  became 
the  colleague  of  Rev.  Henry  Ware  as  pastor  of  the 
Second  Unitarian  Church  of  15oston,  but  he  withdrew 
fi'ora  this  position  three  years  later,  on  account  of  a 
difference  of  opinion  between  himself  and  the  mem- 
bers of  his  church  with  regard  to  the  Lord's  Supper, 
and  sailed  to  Europe,  where  he  remained  nearly  a 
year. 

On  his  return  from  Europe,  in  the  winter  of  lS.''>3-34, 
he  began  his  career  as  a  lecturer,  a  position  in  whicii  he 
has  since  won  great  eminence  and  distinction.  In  the 
winter  of  1834  he  delivered  a  series  of  biograpliicMl  lec- 
tures on  Michael  Angelo,  Milton,  George  Fox,  Luther, 
and  Edmund  Burke.  In  1835  he  delivered  a  series  of 
ten  lectures  on  ICmjlish  Literature;  in  1830,  twelve  on  the 
Philosophy  oj  lUdory ;  in  1837,  ten  on  llunian  Culture  ' 
in  1838,  ten  on  Human  Life;  in  1839,  ten  on  TJie  PreMid 
Age;  and  in  1841,  seven  on  The  Times. 

Among  Emerson's  prominent  books  are  his  orations 
— Man  Thinking,  published  in  1837  :  Litera^v  Ethics,  pub- 
870 


RALPH   WALDO  EMERSON.  371 

lished  in  1838 — and  his  Essays,  the  first  series  of  which 
appeared  in  1841,  the  second  in  1844,  tlie  tliird  in  1870, 
and  the  fourth  in  1871. 

In  1846  he  published  a  volume  of  poems,  and  in  tne 
year  1848  he  delivered  a  course  of  lectures  in  Exeter 
Hall,  London.  In  the  following  year  he  published  his 
Essays  on  Representative  Men,  one  of  his  best  works,  and 
one  of  those  by  which  he  is  most  favorably  known  to  the 
world  of  letters.  It  was  the  publication  of  his  Repre- 
sentalive  Men  that  gave  to  him  the  title  "  the  American 
Carlyle,"  because  in  his  selection  of  characters  he  re- 
ceived suggestions  from  Carlyle's  great  work,  Heroes 
and  Hero- Worship.  Emerson  removed  to  Concord,  Mas- 
sachusetts, in  1835,  which  was  his  place  of  residence  to 
the  time  of  his  death,  April  27,  1882. 

CEITICISM   BY   A.   BRONSON  ALCOTT. 

Emerson's  compositions  affect  us  not  as  logic  linked 
in  syllogisms,  but  as  voluntaries  rather — as  preludes,  in 
which  one  is  not  tied  to  any  design  of  air,  but  may  vary 
his  key  or  note  at  pleasure,  as  if  improvised  without  any 
particular  scope  of  argument;  each  period,  paragraph, 
being  a  perfect  note  in  itself,  however  it  may  chance  to 
chime  with  its  accompaniments  in  the  piece,  as  a  walta 
of  wandering  stars,  a  dance  of  Hesperus  with  Orion. 
His  rlietoric  dazzles  by  its  circuits,  contrasts,  antitheses ; 
imagination  as  in  all  sprightly  minds,  being  his  wand 
of  power So  his  books  are  best  read  as  irregu- 
lar writings,  in  which  sentiment  is,  by  his  enthusi- 
asm, transfused  tliroughout  the  piece,  telling  on  the 
mind  in  cadences  of  a  current  under-song,  giving  the 
impression  of  a  connected  whole,  which  it  seldom  is, 
such  is  the  rluipsodist's  cunning  in  its  structure  and 
delivery. 


372        STUDIES  IN  AMFAIICAN  LITERATURE. 

GOETHE. 

Note. — Tlie  following  extract  is  taken  from  Emerson's  Repreaen' 
tative  Men. 

What  distinguishes  Goethe  for  French  and  English 
readers  is  a  property  which  he  shares  with  his  nation — an 
habitual  reference  to  interior  truth.  In  England  and  in 
America  there  is  a  respect  for  talent ;  and,  if  it  is  exerted 
in  support  of  any  ascertained  or  intelligible  interest  or  5 
party,  or  in  regular  opposition  to  any,  the  ])u])lic  is 
satisfied.  In  France  there  is  even  a  greater  delight  in 
intellectual  brilliancy,  for  its  own  sake.  And  in  all  these 
countries  men  of  talent  write  from  talent.  It  is  enough 
if  the  understanding  is  occupied,  the  taste  propitiated —  10 
BO  many  columns,  so  many  hours,  filled  in  a  lively  and 
creditable  way.  The  German  intellect  wants  the  French 
Bprightliness,  the  fine  practical  understanding  of  the 
English,  and  the  American  adventure;  but  it  has  a 
certain  probity  which  never  rests  in  a  superficial  per- 15 
formance,  but  asks  steadily,  To  what  eridf  A  German 
public  asks  for  a  controlling  sincerity.  Here  is  activity 
of  thought;  but  what  is  it  for?  What  does  the  mim 
mean?     Whence,  whence  all  these  tlioughts? 


Analysis. — 1.  Parse  Wlml.     What  figure  in  the  line? 
2.  properly.     Give  a  syn<)nym. 

2,  3.  Wiiat  word  is  in  apposition  with  properly? 

3.  interior  Irnlh.     What  is  n)eant? 

3-7.  In  England  ....  sati-sfed.     Is  tiie  sentence  periodic  or  loose? 
7,  8.  Notice  the  use  of  even.    Reconstruct  this  sentence,  and  make 
b  "^riodic. 

9.  of  talent  and  from  talent.     What  kind  of  moditier  is  each? 

9-12.  What  are  the  ajipositivcs  of  It  f 
I'A   vdvljf.     Wliat  is  the  meaning?     Name  the  objects  of  wanlt. 

16.  (live  the  n)eaning  f)f  uteiulily. 

To  what  endf     Write  a«  a  complete  clause. 

17.  public.     What  is  the  meaning  of  public  here? 


JiA^PII   WALDO  EMJiitSON.  373 

Talent  alone  cannot  make  a  writer.    There  must  be  a  20 
man  behind  the  book — a  personality  which,  by  birtn  and 
quality,  is  pledged  to  tlie  doctrines  there  set  forth,  and 
V"hich  exists  to  see  and  state  things  so,  and  not  other- 
wise, holding  things  because  they  are  things.    If  he  can- 
not rightly  express  himself  to-day,  the  same  things  sub-  25 
sist,  and  will  open  themselves  to-morrow.    There  lies  the    • 
burden  on  his  mind — the  burden  of  truth  to  be  declared, 
more  or  less  understood  ;  and  it  constitutes  his  business 
and  calhng  in  the  world  to  see  those  facts  through,  and 
to  make  them  his  own.     What  signifies  that  he  trips  30 
and  stammers,  that  his  voice  is  harsh  or  hissing,  that 
his  method  or  his  tropes  are  inadequate?    That  message 
will  find  method  and  imagery,  articulation  and  melody. 
Though  he  were  dumb,  it  would  speak.     If  not,  if  there 
be  no  such  God's  word  in  the  man — what  care  we  how  35 
adroit,  how  fluent,  how  brilliant,  he  is? 

It  makes  a  great  difference  to  the  force  of  any  sen- 
tence whether  there  be  a  man  behind  it  or  no.  In  the 
learned  journal,  in  the  influential  newspaper,  I  discern 
no  form;  only  some  irresponsible  shadow;  oftener  some  40 
moneyed  corporation,  or  some  dangler,  who  hopes.  Id 
the  mask  and  robes  of  his  })aragraph,  to  pass  for  some- 
body.    But  through  every  clause  and  part  of  speech  ui 


Analysis. — 20,  21.  Parse  alotie.    What  figure  in  these  lineeJ 

23.  Dispose  of  the  word  so. 

24.  huldbuj,  etc.     What  does  tlie  phrase  modify? 
20-24.  Criticise  the  construction  of  the  sentence. 

29.  calling.     Give  a  synonym. 

30.  trips.     Ciive  the  meaning. 
84.  it  would  speak.     What  figure? 
88.  Is  no  a  proper  word  here? 

88,  39.  In  the  learned  journal.     What  figure? 
40.  from.    Give  a  synonym. 
41.42.  Whut  figure? 


374  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

a  right  book  I  meet  the  eyes  of  the  most  determined  of 
men ;   his  force  and  terror  inundate  every  word ;   the  45 
commas  and  dashes  are  alive;  so  that  the  writing  is 
athletic  and  nimble — can  go  far  and  live  long. 

In  England  and  America  one  may  be  an  adept  in  the 
writings  of  a  Greek  or  Latin  poet  without  any  poetic 
taste  or  fire.  That  a  man  has  spent  years  on  Plato  and  50 
Proclus  does  not  afford  a  presumption  that  he  holds 
heroic  opinions  or  undervalues  the  fashions  of  his  town. 
But  the  German  nation  have  the  most  ridiculous  good 
faith  on  these  subjects;  the  student  out  of  the  lecture- 
room  still  broods  on  the  lessons,  and  the  professor  can-  55 
not  divest  himself  of  the  fancy  that  the  truths  of  phil- 
osophy have  some  application  to  Berlin  and  Munich. 
This  earnestness  enables  them  to  outsee  men  of  much 
more  talent.  Hence,  almost  all  the  valuable  distinctions 
which  are  current  in  higher  conversation  have  been  de-  60 
rived  to  us  from  Germany.  But,  whilst  men  distin- 
guished for  wit  and  learning  in  England  and  France 
adopt  their  study  and  their  side  with  a  certain  levity, 
and  are  not  understood  to  be  very  deeply  engaged,  from 
grounds  of  character,  to  the  topic  or  the  i)art  they  es-  65 


Analysis. — 44.  right  book.     Give  an  ef|iiivalenL 

wcl  the  tyr.t.     Is  this  figurative  or  literal? 
44-47.  What  figure  in  these  lines  ? 
45.  Name  the  figure  in  this  line. 
49.  a  Oreek  or  Latin  poel.     Criticise. 
60.  Who  was  Plulo  f 
51.  W^ho  was  Proclus  f 

53.  Is  nation  used  here  in  tlie  ahstract  or  in  the  concrete? 

54,  55.  oitl  of  the  lecture-room.     Wlial  doew  the  phrase  modify  F 
55   Give  the  difrerent  meanings  of  broods. 

57    For  wliiil  are  Berlin  and  Munich  remarkahle? 
68.  (iive  the  meaning  of  outj<ee. 
60,  61.  derived  to  ua.     Criticise. 
63.  their  side.     Explain. 


RALPH   WALDO  EMERSON.  375 

pouse,  Goothe,  the  head  and  body  of  the  Ger.nan  nation, 
does  not  speak  from  talent,  Vjut  the  truth  shines  through : 
he  is  very  wise,  though  his  talent  often  veils  his  wisdom. 
Howevei  excellent  his  sentence  is,  he  has  somewhat 
l  etter  ii  view.  It  awakens  my  curiosity.  He  has  the  70 
formidable  independence  which  converse  with  truth 
gives;  hear  you  or  forbear,  his  fact  abides,  and  your 
interest  in  the  writer  is  not  confined  to  his  story,  and 
he  dismissed  from  meuiorv  when  he  has  performed  his 
t?*k  creditably,  as  a  baker  when  he  has  left  his  loaf;  75 
but  his  work  is  the  least  part  of  him.  The  old  Eternal 
Genius  who  built  the  world  has  confided  himself  more 
to  this  man  than  to  any  other.  1  dare  not  say  that  Goethe 
ascended  to  the  highest  grounds  from  which  genius  has 
spoken.  He  has  not  worshiped  the  highest  unity  ;  he  8C 
is  incapable  of  a  self-surrender  to  the  moral  sentiment. 
There  are  nobler  strains  in  poetry  than  any  he  has 
sounded.  There  are  writers  poorer  in  talent  whose  tone 
is  purer  and  more  touches  the  heart.  Goethe  can  never 
be  dear  to  men.  His  is  not  even  the  devotion  to  pure  85 
truth,  but  to  truth  for  the  sake  of  culture.  He  has  no 
aims  less  large  than  the  conquest  of  universal  Nature, 
of  universal  truth,  to  be  hiy  portion :  a  man  not  to  be 
bribed,  nor  deceived,  nor  overawed ;   of  a  stoical  self 

Analysis. — 66.  AVhat  figure  on  nation  f 
68.  Point  out  a  figure  in  the  line. 
72.  Supi)ly  ellipsis. 

74.  Parse  dismissed. 

75.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

76.  77.  Eternal  Geiiius.     Who  is  meant  ? 
79.  Point  out  the  figure. 

82.  Dispose  of  there.    Supply  the  ellipsis. 

84.  Explain  tlie  grammatical  use  of  inate  aa  here  used. 

86,  87.  Kewrile  this  clause. 

88.  to  he  hin  jwrtion.     Of  what  is  this  a  modifier? 

89.  stoical  self-de^nial.     What  is  the  meaniu"! 


376        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

command  and  self-denial,  and  having  one  test  for  all  90 
men:   ]Vhat  can  you  teach  me?    All  possessions  are  val- 
ued by  him  for  that  only — rank,  privileges,  health,  time, 
being  itself. 

He  is  the  tj'pe  of  culture,  the  amateur  of  all  arts  and 
Bciences  and  events ;  artit^tic,  but  not  artist ;   sjnritual,  95 
but  not  spiritualist.    There  is  nothing  he  had  not  a  right 
to  know ;  there  is  no  wea])on  in  the  armory  of  universal 
genius  he  did  not  take  into  his  hand,  but  with  peremp- 
tory heed  that  he  should  not  be  for  a  moment  prejudiced 
by  his  instruments.     He  lays  a  ray  of  light  under  every  100 
fact,  and    between   himself  and    his   dearest  property. 
From  him  nothing  was  hid,  nothing  withholden.     The 
lurking  demons  sat  to  him,  and  the  saint  who  saw  the 
demons;    and   the   metaphysical   elements    took   form. 
"  Piety  itself  is  no  aim,  but  onl}'^  a  means,  whereby,  105 
through  purest  inward  peace,  we  may  attain  to  higliest 
culture."     And  his  penetration  of  every  secret  of  the 
fine  arts  will  make  Goethe  still  more  statuesque.     His 
affections  help  him,  like  women  employed  by  Cicero  to 
worm  out  the  secret  of  conspirators.     Enmities  he  liaa  110 
none.     Enemy  of  him  you  may  be ;  if  so,  you  shall 
t€ach   him   aught  which   your  good-will   cannot,  were 
it  only  what  experience  will  accrue   from  your   ruin. 


Analysis. — 92.  CJive  tlie  antecedeut  of  that.    With  what  axe  ranife, 

privileges,  etc.  in  ainiosilion? 

95.  DisjiDse  of  arlidic  aiul  arlu<t. 

97.  Of  wliat  is  to  know  a  uioditier  ? 

97,  98.  Poiut  out  the  figure. 
100   101.  What  figure  iu  the  line? 
102    withholiUn.     Modernize. 
104.  Supply  tlie  ellipsiH. 

108.  slntueKque.     What  figure? 

109.  Poiut  out  tlie  figure  iu  liie  line. 

110  worm  out  the  Hccret.     ^Vllat  tigure? 

111  Ei plain  the  ime  of  go. 


RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON.  377 

Ei  emy  and  welcome,  but  enemy  on  high  terms.     He 
cannot   hate   anybody;    his   time  is  worth   too   much.  115 
Temperamental  antagonisms  may  be  suffered,  but  like 
feuds  of  emperors,  who  fight  dignifiedly  across  king- 
doms. 


Analysis. — 114.  Enemy  and  welcome,  etc.     Reconstruct  this  sen- 
tence. 

116.  What  is  the  meaning  of  Temperamental  antagonisms  f 

117.  Point  out  the  tisure. 


EXTRACTS. 

The  hand  that  rounded  Peter's  dome, 
And  groined  the  aisles  of  Christian  Rome, 
Wrought  in  a  sad  sincerity; 
Himself  from  God  he  could  not  free; 
He  builded  better  than  he  knew : 
The  conscious  stone  to  beauty  grew. — 

The  Problem. 


Oh,  when  I  am  safe  in  my  sylvan  home, 
I  mock  at  the  pride  of  Greece  and  Rome ; 
And  when  I  am  stretched  beneath  the  pines, 
Where  the  evening  star  so  holy  shines, 
I  laugh  at  the  lore  and  pride  of  man, 
At  the  sophist  schools  and  the  learned  clan  ; 
For  what  are  they  all,  in  their  high  conceit, 
When  man  in  the  bush  with  God  may  meet?— 

Good-bye,  Proud  Wcrld! 

Thought  is  the  property  of  him  who  can  entertain  it, 
and  :f  him  who  can  accurately  place  \i.— Representative 
Men, 


13.  JAMES   RUSSELL   LOWELL, 

1819-1891. 

James  Russell  Lowell,  a  distinguished  American 
poet,  critic,  and  essayist,  was  born  in  Cambridge,  Mas- 
«acliusetts,  February  22,  1819.  He  graduated  in  1838. 
He  then  studied  law  in  Harvard  University,  and  liaving 
been  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1840,  he  opened  an  office  in 
Boston.  He  soon,  however,  abandoned  the  practice  of 
law  and  devoted  himself  entirely  to  literature. 

Lowell's  first  published  work  was  his  Cbiss  Poem,  re- 
cited at  Harvard  College  wlien  he  graduated.  In  1841 
he  published  a  volume  of  poems  entitled  A  Yearns  Life. 
This  was  never  reprinted,  but  a  new  volume  of  poems, 
containing  A  Legend  of  Brittany,  Prometheus  JRhreciis,  and 
many  shorter  pieces,  was  published  in  1844.  This  was 
followed  in  1845  by  a  volume  of  prose  entitled  Conver- 
st^.tiinis  OP  Some  Old  Poets.  A  second  series  of  Poems  was 
issued  in  1848.  In  the  same  year  also  he  published  77ie 
Vision  of  Sir  Lawnfal  and  the  Biglow  Papers,  the  latter 
being  a  humorous  satire  written  ostensibly  by  Hosoa 
Biglow,  into  which  the  Yankee  dialect  is  introduced 
with  admirable  eflect.  It  was  directed  cliiefly  against 
slavery  and  the  war  with  Mexico  in  1846-48.  During 
tliis  same  year  (1848)  he  pu])lisl)ed  anonymously  liis 
Fable  for  Critics,  a  rliymed  essay  on  the  })rincipal  living 
American  authors. 

Mr  Lowell  visited  England,  France,  Switzerland,  and 
Ila'iy  in  1851,  and  returned  to  America  in  1852.  In 
1854-55  he  delivered  a  course  of  twelve  lectures  on  tb* 
British  poets,  which  was  received  with  great  fav^r 

378 


JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL.  379 

In  1855,  Mr.  Lowell  succeeded  Longfellow  as  Professor 
of  JModern  Languages  and  Belles-Lettres  in  Harvard 
College,  and  in  order  to  qualify  himself  more  fully  for 
the  duties  of  the  position  he  went  immediately  to  Eu- 
rope, spending  a  year  in  study,  chiefly  in  Dresden. 

In  1857  he. became  editor  of  the  Atlantic  Monthly,  and 
retained  the  position  up  to  1862.  In  1863,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  Charles  E.  Norton,  he  assumed  the  editorship 
of  the  North  American  Review,  retaining  charge  until  1872, 
when  he  again  visited  Europe,  returning  in  1874. 

In  addition  to  the  works  mentioned,  some  of  Lowell's 
other  chief  poems  are  Under  the  Willoivs,  Aleliboeus  Hlp- 
ponax,  The  Cathedral,  and  his  Commemoration  Ode.  Two 
of  his  cliief  prose  writings  are  Among  my  Books  and  My 
Study -Windoios,hoih  issued  in  1870. 

Both  of  the  English  Universities  have  conferred  de- 
grees on  Mr.  Lowell — Oxford,  that  of  D.  C.  L.  in  1873 ; 
and  Caml)ri(lge,  that  of  LL.D.  in  1874. 

Mr.  Lowell  was  for  several  years  minister-plenipoten- 
tiary to  Spain,  whence  he  was  called  to  fill  the  same 
ofiice  in  England. 

Lie  is  without  doubt  the  most  polished  and  scholarly 
of  American  writers,  succeeding  equally  well  in  both 
prose  and  i)oetry.  As  an  essa3dst  and  critic  he  certain- 
ly has  no  superior,  if,  indeed,  an  equal,  in  the  age  he 
represents. 

CRITICISM. 

Phobabt.y  no  writer  in  either  America  or  Europe  hjis 
oeen  so  versatile  in  style  as  Lowell.  He  seems  equally 
facile  in  either  prose  or  i)oetry.  No  one  has  the  capa- 
city of  adapting  his  style  so  admirably  to  the  picture  ho 
delineates.  Ahuost  every  line  evinces  the  keen  know- 
ledge of  human  nature  and  the  great  scholastic  attain- 
ments of  this  writer.     In   his   Biyluw  Papers  we  have 


380        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

humor  racy  and  sparkling.  In  his  Vision  of  Sir  Launfcd 
we  find  delicacy  and  grace.  In  his  Cominenwraiion  Ode 
he  is  grand.  In  his  criticisms — and  he  has  written 
much  on  both  ancient  and  modern  classic  authors — he 
is  fair  and  impartial.  He  seems  to  liave  the  faculty  of 
adapting  not  only  his  style,  but  also  his  very  words,  to 
the  subject  he  discusses,  in  a  way  which  characterizes 
no  other  writer  of  either  ancient  or  modern  times. 

THE  VISION  OF  SIR  LAUNFAL. 

Note. — The  following  extract  is  the  prelude  to  Part  First  of  The 
Vision  of  Sir  LaunJ'al,  one  of  the  best  of  Lowell's  efforts  as  a  poet. 
The  poem  appeared  in  1S48,  and  it  has  done  much  to  establish  the 
reputation  of  its  author  as  one  of  the  most  scholarly  of  American 
poets. 

Over  his  keys  the  musing  organist, 

Beginning  doubtlully  and  far  away. 
First  lets  his  lingers  wander  as  they  list, 

And  builds  a  bridge  from  Dreamland  for  his  lay.     * 
Then,  as  the  touch  of  his  loved  instrument  6 

Gives  hope  and  fervor,  nearer  draws  bis  theme, 
First  guessed  by  faint  auroral  flushes  sent 
Along  the  wavering  vista  of  his  dream. 

Not  only  around  our  infancy 

Doth  heaven  with  all  its  splendors  lie ;  10 


Analysis. — 1-4.  Is  the  sentence  periodic  or  loose  ?    Rewrite. 
2.  AVhat  does  far  modify  ? 

3    Give  the  mode  and  the  tense  of  wander.    The  meaning  Ckl 
iielf 

4.  What  is  the  meaning  of  lay  t     What  figure  in  the  line? 

5,  6.  What  is  the  leading  clause? 
7.  Explain  the  figure  in  this  line. 

7,  8.  guessed,  etc.     What  does  the  phnuse  modify? 

8.  What  is  the  meaning  of  vista  f 

10.  icilh  all  iU  sfilendors,  etc.     What  does  the  i)hra«e  moilify? 


JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL  ^81 

Daily,  with  souls  that  cringe  and  plot, 
We  Sinais  climb,  and  know  it  not. 
Over  our  manhood  bend  the  skies; 

Against  our  fallen  and  traitor  lives 
The  great  winds  utter  prophecies ;  16 

With  our  faint  hearts  the  mountain  strives; 
Its  arms  outstretched,  the  druid  wood 

Waits  with  its  benedicite ; 
And  to  our  age's  drowsy  blood 

Still  shouts  the  inspiring  sea.  20 

Earth  gets  its  price  for  what  earth  gives  us  : 

The  beggar  is  taxed  for  a  corner  to  die  in, 
The  priest  hath  his  fee  who  comes  and  shrives  us, 

We  bargain  for  the  graves  we  lie  in  ; 
At  the  devil's  booth  are  all  things  sold,  25 

Each  ounce  of  dross  costs  its  ounce  of  gold; 

For  a  cap  and  bells  our  lives  we  pay ; 
Bubbles  we  buy  with  a  whole  soul's  tasking; 

'Tis  Heaven  alone  that  is  given  away, 
'Tis  only  God  may  be  had  for  the  asking,  30 

No  price  is  set  on  the  lavish  summer ; 
June  may  be  had  by  the  poorest  comer. 


Analysis. — 12.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line.  What  is  the 
antecedent  of  itf 

13-16.  Are  tiie  clauses  periodic  or  loose?  Rewrite.  What  figure 
J  the,se  lines  ? 

17-20.  Point  out  the  figure. 

18.  be.nedicUe,  a  blessing. 

19.  Explain  the  line. 

21-32.  Mention  the  particulars  expressed  by  the  general  statement. 

22.  What  relative  should  be  8Uj)plied? 

23.  who  come,%  etc.     Is  llie  clause  restrictive  or  non-restrictive? 
25.  Give  the  nieaniuj^  of  (/('iv'/'s  6on<A. 

27.  cap  and  belU.     What  is  tiie  meaning? 

28.  Name  the  figure  in  liie  line. 

29.  Parse  the  word  alone.     Name  the  modifier  of  it. 

30.  Supply  the  ellipsis,  and  name  the  modifier  of  it 


382        STUDIES  IX  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

And  what  is  so  rare  as  a  day  in  June? 

Then,  if  ever,  come  perfect  days ; 
Then  Heaven  tries  the  earth  if  it  be  in  tune,  3fi 

And  over  it  softly  her  warm  ear  lays ; 
Whether  we  look  or  whether  we  listen, 
We  hear  life  murmur  or  see  it  glisten ; 
Every  clod  feels  a  stir  of  might. 

An  instinct  within  it  that  reaches  and  towers^  40 

And,  groping  blindly  above  it  for  light, 

Climbs  to  a  soul  in  grass  and  flowers; 
The  flush  of  life  may  well  be  seen 

Thrilling  back  over  hills  and  vallej's; 
The  cowslip  startles  in  meadows  green,  46 

The  buttercup  catches  the  sun  in  its  chalice; 
And  there's  never  a  leaf  nor  a  blade  too  mean 

To  be  some  happy  creature's  palace. 
The  little  bird  sits  at  his  door  in  the  sun, 

Atilt  like  a  blossom  among  the  leaves,  60 

And  lets  his  illumined  being  o'errun 

With  the  deluge  of  summer  it  receives; 
His  mate  feels  the  eggs  beneath  her  wings, 
And  the  heart  in  her  dumb  breast  flutters  and  singa ;  ' 
He  sings  to  the  wide  world,  and  she  to  her  nest, —         66 
In  the  nice  ear  of  Nature  which  song  is  the  best? 


Analv.'hs. — 35.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  itf 

36.  Explain  tlie  line. 

88.  (rive  the  mode  and  the  tense  of  murmur  nnd  r/llxten. 

40.   In  wIkU  c;:ise  is  iiustinci  f     iS'aiiie  the  iiu^liliers  of  imtincL 

42.  lOxplain  liie  line. 

43-45.  Point  out  the  figures. 

46.  Change  the  figiinitive  to  plain  language. 

47.  Explain  the  u.se  of  never. 

49,  50.  Point  out  the  figure,  and  parse  lihe  and  hhiuMm. 

60.  Parse  the  word  Alill. 

61.  Parse  o'errun. 

52.  Ciive  \.\\e  rnvTimn^  u^  delufje  of  atimmer.    What  figure  in  the  line? 
65.  Meaning  of  liiis  line  as  applied  to  limiianity? 
56.  Ciive  the  meaning  of  nice  ear  as  here  uaed.    Why  is  bcsl  allow- 
ftl)le  here? 


JAMES  mrSSELL  LOWELL.  383 

Now  is  the  high-tide  of  the  year, 

And  whatever  of  life  hath  ebbed  away 
Comes  flooding  back  with  a  ripply  cheer, 

Into  every  bare  inlet  and  creek  and  bay ;  60 

Now  the  heart  is  so  full  that  a  drop  overfills  it, 
We  are  happy  now  because  God  wills  it ; 
No  matter  how  barren  the  past  may  have  been, 
'Tis  enough  for  us  now  that  the  leaves  are  green. 
We  ait  in  the  warm  shade  and  feel  right  well  65 

How  the  sap  creeps  up  and  the  blossoms  swell ; 
We  may  shut  our  eyes,  but  we  cannot  help  knowing 
That  skies  are  clear  and  grass  is  growing. 

The  breeze  comes  whispering  in  our  ear 

That  dandelions  are  blossoming  near,  70 

That  maize  has  sprouted,  that  streams  are  flowing, 
That  the  river  is  bluer  than  the  sky, 
That  the  robin  is  plastering  his  house  hard  by ; 
^nd  if  the  breeze  kept  the  good  news  back. 
For  other  couriers  we  should  not  lack  ;  75 

We  could  guess  it  all  by  yon  heifer's  lowing; 
And  hark  !  how  clear  bold  Chanticleer, 
Warmed  with  the  new  wine  of  the  year, 

Tells  all  in  his  lusty  crowing! 

Joy  comes,  grief  goes,  we  know  not  how;  80 

Everything  is  happy  now. 


Analysis. — 57-60.  Point  out  the  figures  in  these  linfa. 
5i).  ripply  cheer.     What  figure? 

61.  Wliat  fijjure  in  the  line? 

62.  Wliat  is  the  antecedent  of  it* 

63.  Siii)ply  ihe  ellipsis  in  the  leading  clause,  and  name  the  modi- 
flers  of  it. 

65,  66.  Name  the  ohject  of  feel.     Parse  well. 
67,68.  IS ame  the  oliject  of /)('//)/  aho  of  knowing. 
69,  70.  Name  tlie  object  of  whispering. 
73.  Parse  hard  b>/. 

78,  79.  Point  out  the  figure  ii    these  lines.     What  does  Wanned, 
etc.  modify? 


384         STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Everything  is  upward  striving; 
'Tis  as  easy  now  for  the  heart  to  be  true 
As  for  grass  to  be  green  or  skies  to  be  blue— 

'Tis  the  natural  way  of  living,  8A 

Who  knows  whither  the  clouds  have  fled  ? 

In  the  uuscarred  heaven  they  leave  no  wake ; 
And  the  eyes  forget  the  tears  they  have  shed, 

The  heart  forgets  its  sorrow  and  ache ; 
The  soul  partakes  the  season's  youth,  90 

And  the  sulphurous  rifts  of  passion  and  woe 
Lie  deep  'neath  a  silence  pure  and  smooth, 

Like  burned-out  craters  healed  with  snow. 
What  wonder  if  Sir  Launfal  now 
Remembered  the  keeping  of  his  vow?  A5 


Analysis. — 83.  Name  the  modifier  of  it. 

85.  Name  the  antecedent  of  it. 

87.  Give  a  synonym  for  wake. 

91-93.  Point  out  the  figure  iu  these  lines. 


EXTRACT. 

0'*'C'E  to  every  man  and  nation  comes  the  moment  to  decide, 

111  the  strife  of  Truth  with  Falsehood,  for  the  good  or  evil  side: 

Bome  great  cause,  God's  new  Messiah  oll'cring  each  the  bloom 

or  blight. 

Parts  the  goats  upon  the  left  hand,  and  the  sheep  upon  the  right, 

Ami  the  choice  goes  by  for  ever  'twixt  that  darkness  and  that 

lighU 

The  Present  Oriti*. 


14.  WASHINGTON    IRVING, 

1783-1859. 

Washington  Irving,  one  of  the  most  graceful  ana 
polislied  prose-writers  of  America,  was  born  in  New 
York,  April  3,  1783.  His  ancestors  on  the  father's  side 
were  Scotch,  his  mother  being  English. 

At  the  age  of  sixteen  Irving  left  school  to  engage  in 
the  study  of  law,  but  literature  had  greater  attractions 
for  him,  and  in  1802  he  began  a  series  of  papers  for  the 
Morning  Chronicle  under  the  signature  of  "  Jonathan  Old- 
style,"  choosing  for  his  themes  mainly  social  topics  and 
local  occurrences. 

Being  threatened  with  consumption  in  1804,  he  went 
to  Europe,  and  spent  several  months  in  Italy  and  the 
south  of  France.  At  Rome  he  became  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  Washington  Allston,  under  whose  tuition 
he  made  an  attempt  to  become  a  painter,  but  three  days' 
experience  convinced  him  that  he  had  not  the  talent  to 
make  him  an  artist.  Having  visited  Switzerland,  the 
Netherlands,  Paris,  and  London,  he  returned  to  the 
United  States  in  1806,  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar, 
but  he  never  practiced  his  profession. 

In  1807,  in  connection  with  his  brother  William  and 
James  K.  Paulding,  he  began  a  serial  entitled  Salma- 
gxmdi;  or,  The  \V7iim- Whams  and  Opinions  of  Laur.celot 
Langstaff,  Eaq.,  and  Others,  which  was  issued  at  irregular 
intervals  in  18mo  form.  It  was  full  of  personal  allu- 
sions and  humorous  hits,  which  gave  it  immediate 
success. 

2ft  986 


386        STUl  lES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Tr/iiig's  next  literary  venture  was  a  History  of  New 
York,  by  Diedrich  Knickerbocker.  The  book  was  begun 
by  Peter  and  Washington  Irving  as  a  burlesque  on  a 
handbook  of  the  city  of  New  York  then  just  published; 
but  the  elder  brother  having  sailed  to  Europe,  Washing- 
ton elaborated  the  original  plan  and  completed  the  book 
himself.  In  order  to  introduce  it  to  the  public,  an  ad- 
vertisement was  inserted  in  the  Evening  Post  a  few  days 
before  the  appearance  of  the  book,  inquiring  for  "a 
small  elderly  gentleman,  dressed  in  an  old  black  coat 
and  cocked  hat,  by  the  name  of  Knickerbocker,"  who 
was  represented  as  having  disappeared  from  the  Co- 
lumbia Hotel,  and  left  behind  "  a  very  curious  kind 
of  a  written  book."  The  book  appeared  in  1809,  and 
met  at  once  with  a  flattering  and  cordial  reception. 
The  style  in  which  it  is  written  somewhat  resembles 
that  of  Swift.  For  a  time  the  burlesque  is  said  to  have 
given  serious  offence  to  some  of  the  New  York  fam- 
ilies whose  ancestors  were  caricatured,  and  Irving,  to 
appease  their  wrath,  finally  inserted  an  apologetic 
preface. 

Being  a  silent  partner  in  the  mercantile  house  of  his 
brothers,  Irving  sailed  for  Europe  in  1815.  But  the 
house  soon  became  bankrupt,  and  the  author  wiua  com- 
pelled to  write  for  a  living.  Ilis  rambles  through 
England  and  Scotland  had  furnished  him  excellent 
material,  and  in  1818  the  Sketch-Book  appeared  in  the 
United  States  in  pamphlet  numbers.  Some  of  these 
were  co|)ied  in  the  London  Literary  Gazette,  and  Irving 
collected  the  various  sketches  and  sought  a  publisher  in 
England  to  issue  them  in  book-form.  Failing  in  Uiis, 
he  put  the  first  volume  to  press  in  1820  at  his  own  ex- 
pense, but  the  failure  of  the  publislier  prevented  the 
issue.  Sir  Walter  Scott  now  succeeded  in  having  Mur- 
ray, the  London  publisher,  purchase  the  manuscrij»t  for 


WASHINGTON  IRVING.  387 

two  hundred  pounds — a  sum  which  he  doubled  when 
the  book  became  successful.  The  Sketch- Book  is  consid- 
ered Irving's  best  book.  It  is  written  in  admirable 
style  and  in  the  purest  of  diction.  It  has  proved  to 
be  the  favorite  work  of  the  author  in  both  England 
and  America.  It  is  the  work,  indeed,  on  which  Irv- 
ing's success  as  an  author  is  based,  and  from  the  time 
of  its  publication  to  the  present  he  has  never  lacked  for 
a  wide  circle  of  appreciative  readers. 

The  Sketch-Buok  was  followed  in  1822  by  Bracehridge 
Hall ;  or,  The  Humorists,  for  which  the  publisher  paid 
one  thousand  guineas.  Two  years  later  The  Tales  oj  a 
Traveler  followed,  which  Irving  sold  for  fifteen  hun- 
dred pounds.  This  book  met  with  severe  criticism  in 
both  Europe  and  America,  but  his  History  of  Christopher 
Columbus,  four  volumes,  ])ublished  soon  after,  and  which 
he  sold  to  the  publishers  for  three  thousand  guineas,  was 
highly  praised,  and  it  restored  to  the  author  his  popu- 
larity. 

The  other  works  of  Irving  are — Chronicles  of  the  Con- 
quest of  Grenada,  two  volumes ;  Voyages  of  the  Companions 
of  Columbus ;  The  Alhambra,  two  volumes,  a  portion  of  it 
written  in  the  old  Moorish  palace,  where  Irving  stayed 
several  months ;  The  Crayon  Miscellany ;  Astoria,  two  vol- 
umes ;  Adventures  of  Captain  Bonneville  of  the  U.  S.  A.  in 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  Far  West;  Wolfert''s  Roost,  a 
series  of  collected  magazine  articles;  The  Life  of  Oliver 
Goldsmith ;  Mahomet  and  his  Successors,  two  volumes  ;  and 
the  Life  of  Washington,  five  volumes,  the  last  of  which 
was  issued  just  three  months  before  Irving's  death. 

Much  of  Irving's  life  was  spent  in  England,  where  he 
and  his  works  were  highly  esteemed.  In  1831  the  Uni- 
versity of  Oxford  conferred  on  him  the  degree  LL.D. 
Besides  other  positions  abroad,  he  held  that  of  mini»« 
ter  to  Spain  from  1842  to  1846. 


388  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

For  several  years  preceding  his  death  Irving,  who  was 
never  married,  resided  near  Tarrytown,  New  York,  in  an 
old  Dutch  mansion  which  he  named  "  Sunnyside."  Here 
he  died  suddenly,  from  a  disease  of  the  heart,  in  1859. 
the  funeral  procession  which  bore  his  body  to  the  grave 
at  Tarrytown  passing  through  the  historical  Sleepy  Hol- 
low which  his  genius  had  made  famous. 

CRITICISM   BY  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER. 

I  DO  not  know  how  to  account,  on  principles  of  cul- 
ture which  we  recognize,  for  our  autlior's  style.  His 
education  was  exceedingl}'  defective,  nor  was  his  want 
of  discipline  su]:)plied  by  the  subsequent  desultory  ap- 
plication. He  seems  to  have  been  born  with  a  rare  sense 
of  literary  proportion  and  form ;  into  this,  as  into  a 
mould,  were  run  his  apparently  lazy  and  really  acute 
observations  of  life.  That  he  thoroughly  mastered  such 
literature  as  he  fancied  there  is  abundant  evidence ;  that 
his  style  was  intluenced  by  the  purest  English  models  is 
also  apparent.  But  there  remains  a  large  margin  for 
wonder  how,  with  his  want  of  training,  he  could  have 
elaborated  a  style  which  is  distinctively  his  own,  and  is 
as  copious,  felicitous  in  the  clioice  of  words,  flowing, 
spontaneous,  flexible,  engaging,  clear,  and  as  little  wea- 
risome whun  read  continuously  in  quantity,  as  any  in 
the  English  tongue.  This  is  saying  a  great  deal,  though 
it  is  not  claiming  for  him  the  compactness,  nor  tiie 
re  bust  vigor,  nor  the  depth  of  thought,  of  many  other 
masters  in  it.  It  is  sometimes  praised  for  its  simplici- 
ty It  is  certainly  lucid,  but  its  simplicity  is  not  that 
of  Benjamin  Franklin's  style;  it  is  often  ornate,  not  sel- 
dom somewhat  difl'use,  and  always  exceedingly  melo- 
dious. It  is  noticeable  for  its  metaphorical  felicity 
But  it  was  not  in  the  sympathetic  nature  of  the  author 


WASHINGTON  IRVING.  389 

to  which  I  just  referred,  to  come  sharply  to  ihe  point. 
It  is  much  to  have  merited  the  eulogy  of  CampbelL 
that  he  had  "added  clarity  to -the  English  tongue." 

ICHABOD  CRANE'S  RIDE. 

Ni/x'E. — The  following  extract  from  the  Sketch-Book  is  taken  \xm 
Irviiig^s  "Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollow."  Sleepy  Hollow,  as  repre- 
Bcnted  by  the  author,  "is  a  little  valley,  or  rather  lap  of  land, 
anion.-  high  bills,  which  is  one  of  the  quietest  places  in  the  whole 
world."  It  is  \rithin  a  mile  or  two  of  Tarrjtown  on  the  Hudson. 
Ichabod  Crane  was  the  schoolmaster  of  Sleepy  Hollow.  On  the 
occasion  referred  to  in  this  extract  he  had  been  attending  a  merry- 
making at  Mynheer  Van  Tassel's,  whose  daughter,  Katrina,  was  the 
object  of  his  afl'ections.  But  Ichabod  had  a  rival  in  Brom  Van 
Brunt,  who  sat  gloomily  in  the  corner  while  the  schoolmaster  joined 
Katrina  in  the  dance.  Before  the  breaking  up  of  the  party  Ichabod 
had  listened  to  a  number  of  ghost-stories,  prominent  among  them 
being  that  of  a  headless  horseman  who  haunted  the  bridge  over 
which  Ichabod  must  pass  on  his  homeward  route  that  night. 

It  was  the  very  witching  time  of  night  that  Ichabod, 
heavy-hearted  and  crestfallen,  pursued  his  travels  home- 
ward along  the  sides  of  the  lofty  hills  which  rise  above 
Tarrytown,  and  which  he  had  traveled  so  cheerily  in  the 
afternoon.  The  hour  was  as  dismal  as  himself.  Far  5 
below  him  the  Taijjtan  Zee  spread  its  dusky  and  indis- 
tinct waste  of  waters,  with  here  and  there  the  tall  mast 
of  a  sloop  riding  quietly  at  anchor  under  the  land.  In 
the  dead  hush  of  midnight  he  could  even  hear  the  bn;  Ic- 
ing of  the  watch-dog  from  the  opposite  shore  of  the  10 


Analysis. — 1,  2.  Name  the  modifier  of  /(. 

1  w'tcking  time.     I]x  plain. 

2  erestj'allen.     What  is  the  figure? 
5.  What  dues /'ar  UKxlify? 

t).  dusky.     Wliat  figure? 

9.  I'uii  I  out  the  tit,'ure  in  this  line.     What  is  the  force  of  ntnf 


:'.90        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Hudson,  but  it  was  so  vague  and  faint  as  only  to  give 
an  idea  of  Ids  distance  from  this  faithful  companion  of 
man.  Now  and  then,  too,  the  long-drawn  crowing  of  a 
cock,  accidentally  awakened,  would  sound  far,  far  off 
from  some  farm-house  away  among  the  hills ;  but  it  was  15 
like  a  dreaming  sound  in  his  ear.  No  signs  of  life  oc- 
curred near  him,  but  occasionally  the  melancholy  chirp 
of  a  cricket,  or  perhaps  the  guttural  twang  of  a  bull- 
frog from  a  neighboring  marsh,  as  if  sleeping  uncom- 
fortably and  turning  suddenly  in  his  bed.  20 

All  the  stories  of  ghosts  and  goblins  that  he  had  heard 
in  the  afternoon  now  came  crowding  upon  his  recollec- 
tion. The  night  grew  darker  and  darker;  the  stars 
seemed  to  sink  deeper  in  the  sky,  and  driving  clouds 
occasionally  hid  them  from  his  sight.  He  had  never  25 
felt  so  lonely  and  dismal.  He  was,  moreover,  approach- 
ing the  very  place  where  many  of  the  scenes  of  the  ghost- 
stories  had  been  laid.  In  the  centre  of  the  road  stood  an 
enormous  tulip  tree,  which  towered  like  a  giant  above 
all  the  other  trees  of  the  neighborhood,  and  formed  a  30 
kind  of  landmark.  Its  limbs  were  gnarled  and  fantastic, 
large  enough  to  form  trunks  for  ordinary  trees,  twisting 
down  almost  to  the  earth  and  rising  again  into  the  air. 
It  was  connected  with  the  tragical  story  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Andr6,  who  had  been  taken  prisoner  hard  by,  35 
and  was  universally  known  by  the  name  of  Major  An- 


Analysis. — 13    Par8e  too. 

14    arcidentalbj  nwaJcened.     What  does  this  modify? 

16  Parwe  like  and  sound. 

17  iS.  vidancholy  chirp.    Whatfigiire?    Is  (waTU^  a  good  word  here  f 
22    came  crowding.     Dispose  of  crowding. 

24.  to  gink  deeper.     Purse  deeper. 
29.  Wliat  figure  in  the  line? 

35.  hard  by.     Parse. 

36.  wiivers'xUy.     Is  this  the  proper  word  as  used  ? 


WASHINGTON  IRVINQ.  391 

clr6's  Tree.     The  common  people  regarded  it  wiih  a  mix- 
ture of  respect  and  sii})erstition,  partly  out  of  sympa-     • 
thy  for  the  fate  of  its  ill-starred  namesake,  and  partly 
from  the  tales  of  strange  sights  and  doleful  lamentations  10 
told  concerning  it.     As  Ichabod  approached  this  fearful 
tree  he  began  to  wliislle.     He  thought  his  whistle  was 
answered  ;  it  was  but  a  blast  sweeping  sharply  through 
the  dry  branches.     As  he  ai)j)roaehed  a  little  nearer,  he 
thought  he  saw  something  whit^  hanging  in  the  midst  45 
of  the  tree.     He  paused,  and  ceased  whistling;  but  on 
looking  more  narrowly  perceived  that  it  was  a  place 
where  the  tree  had  been  scathed  by  lightning,  and  the 
white  wood  la}-^  bare.     Suddenly  he  heard  a  groan  ;  his 
teeth  chattered,  and  his  knees  smote  against  the  saddle.  50 
It  was  but  the  rubbing  of  one  huge  bough  upon  another 
as  they  were  swayed  about  by  the  breeze.     He  passed 
the  tree  in  safety,  but  new  perils  lay  before  him. 

About  two  hundred  yards  from  the  tree  a  small  brook 
crossed  the  road,  and  ran  into  a  marshy  and  thickly-  55 
wooded  glen  known  by  tlie  name  of  Wiley's  Swamp. 
A  few  rough  logs,  laid  side  by  side,  served  for  a  bridge 
over  this  stream.  On  that  side  of  the  road  where  the 
brook  entered  the  wood  a  grou})  of  oaks  and  chestnuts, 
matted  thick  with  wild  grapevines,  threw  a  cavernous  6fl 


Analysis. — 37.  Who  are  meain  by  Tin  comnum  peopUt 
38.  Wliat  does  parllij  inodify  ? 

40.  What  figure  hi  the  line? 

41,  42.  /earful  tree.     What  figure? 
43.  Dispose  of  but. 

47.  Substitute  a  word  for  narrowly. 
49.  Dispose  of  bare. 
54.  Parse  about. 

67.  Dispose  of  nide  by  mle. 

68.  Dispose  of  the  word  where. 

60.  Ifiiak.     Is  the  word  correct  as  used  here? 


S02        STUniJ^S  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

gloom  over  it.  To  pasf?  tliis  bridge  was  the  severest  trial. 
It  was  at  tliis  identical  spot  that  the  unfortunate  Andr^ 
was  captured,  and  under  the  covert  of  those  chestnuts 
and  vines  were  the  sturdy  yeomen  concealed  who  sur- 
prised him.  This  has  ever  since  been  considered  a  63 
liaunted  stream,  and  fearful  are  the  feelings  of  the 
srhool-boy  who  has  to  pass  it  alone  after  dark. 

As  he  approached  the  stream  his  heart  began  to 
tnump.  lie  summoned  up,  however,  all  his  resolu- 
tion, gave  his  horse  half  a  score  of  kicks  in  the  ribs,  70 
and  attempted  to  dash  briskly  across  the  bridge.  But 
instead  of  starting  forward,  the  perverse  old  animal 
made  a  lateral  movement  and  ran  broadside  against 
the  fence.  Ichabod,  whose  fears  increased  with  the 
delay,  jerked  the  reins  on  the  other  side  and  kicked  75 
lustily  with  the  contrary  foot.  It  was  all  in  vain.  His 
Bteed  started,  it  is  true,  but  it  was  only  to  plunge  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  road  into  a  thicket  of  brambles 
and  alder-bushes.  The  schoolmaster  now  bestowed 
both  whip  and  heel  upon  the  starveling  ribs  of  old  80 
Gunpowder,  who  dashed  forward,  snuffling  and  snort- 
ing, but  came  to  a  stand  just  by  the  bridge,  with  a 
suddenness  which  had  nearly  sent  his  rider  sprawling 
over  his  head.     Just  at  this  moment  a  plashy  tramp  by 

Analysis. — 61.  What  figure  in  the  line?    Criticise  the  sentence 
boginning  to  pass  this  bridcje,  etc.     What  is  the  sulyect  of  tlie  clause? 
64.  sturdy  yeomen.     AV ho  were  they? 
64,  65.  Point  out  a  violation  of  strengtli  in  these  lines. 
69.  Substitute  a  word  for  thump. 
73.  What  is  meant  hy  a  latend  movement  f 
7:    Huhstitute  a  word  for  contrary  as  here  used 

What  is  the  antecedent  of  /( f 
77.  it  is  true.     What  is  in  ai)i)osition  with  Uf 
80.  Point  out  the  figure  in  tlie  line. 

83.  had  ....  sent.     Criticise. 

84.  What  does  just  njo<lify  ? 


WASHINGTON  IRVING.  393 

the  Ride  of  the  hridge  caught  the  sensitive  ear  of  Ich-8fi 
abod.  In  the  dark  shadow  of  the  grove  on  the  margin 
of  the  brook  he  beheld  something  huge,  misshapen, 
black,  and  towering.  It  stirred  not,  but  seemed  gath- 
ered up  in  the  gloom,  like  some  gigantic  monster  reary 
b    spring  upon  tlie  traveler.  ^ 

The  hair  of  the  aftriglited  pedagogue  rose  upon  Ids 
head  with  terror.  What  was  to  be  done?  To  turn  and 
fly  was  now  too  late;  and,  besides,  wliat  chance  was 
there  of  escaping  gliost  or  goblin,  if  such  it  was,  which 
could  ride  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind  ?  Summoning  95 
up,  therefore,  a  show  of  courage,  he  demanded,  in  stam- 
mering accents,  "  Who  are  you?"  He  received  no  reply. 
He  repeated  his  demand  in  a  still  more  agitated  voice. 
Still  there  was  no  answer.  Once  more  he  cudgeled  the 
sides  of  the  inflexible  Gunpowder,  and,  shutting  his  100 
eyes,  broke  forth  with  involuntary  fervor  into  a  psalm- 
tune.  Just  then  the  shadowy  object  of  alarm  f)ut  itself 
in  motion,  and,  with  a  scramble  and  a  bound,  stood  at 
once  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Though  tlie  night  was 
dark  and  dismal,  yet  the  form  of  the  unknown  might  105 
now,  in  some  degree,  be  ascertained.  He  appeared  to 
be  a  horseman  of  large  dimensions,  and  mounted  on  a 
black  horse  of  powerful  frame.  He  made  no  offer  of 
molestation  or  sociability,  but  ke))t  aloof  on  one  side 
of  the   road,  jogging   along   on  the  bUnd  side  of  old   10 


ANALYSTS. — 85.  cnught  the  ....  ear.     What  figure? 

89.  Point  out  the  lij^ure  in  tlie  line. 

91,  92.  Rewrite  this  sentence. 

93  fly.  Is  this  the  proper  word  as  use<i  here? 

95.  wings  of  the  wind.     Wliat  figure? 

96.  Is  demanded  in  this  line  transitive  or  intrinisitive? 

98,  99.  stiH  moie  ....  iSlill  there,  etc.    Parse  dUI  in  each  eipresjuon. 
101.  Parse  6"0^e /oWA  ....  into. 
107.  Dispose  of  the  word  vwunted. 


394  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Gunpowder,  who  had  now  got  over  his  fright  and  way- 
(vardness. 

Ichabod,  who  had  no  relish  for  this  strange  midnight 
comj)anion,  and  bethought  himself  of  the  adventure  of 
Brom  Bones  with  the  Galloping  Hessian,  now  quickened  US 
his  steed  in  hopes  of  leaving  him  behind.  The  stranger, 
hcwever,  quickened  his  horse  to  an  equal  ))ace.  Ich- 
abod pulled  up  and  fell  into  a  walk,  tliinking  to  lag 
behind.  The  other  did  the  same.  His  heart  began  to 
sink  within  him.  He  endeavored  to  resume  his  psalm- 120 
tune,  but  his  parched  tongue  clove  to  tlie  roof  of  his 
mouth,  and  he  could  not  utter  a  stave.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  moody  and  dogged  silence  of  this  perti- 
nacious com})anion  that  was  mysterious  and  ai)palling. 
It  was  soon  fearfully  accounted  for.  On  mounting  a  125 
rising  ground,  which  brought  the  figure  of  his  fellow- 
traveler  in  relief  against  the  sky,  gigantic  in  height  and 
muflled  in  a  cloak,  Ichabod  was  horror-struck  on  per- 
ceiving that  he  was  headless  !  But  his  horror  was  still 
more  increased  on  observing  that  the  head,  which  should  13<l 
have  rested  on  his  shoulders,  was  carried  before  him  on 
the  pommel  of  his  saddle  I  His  terror  rose  to  despera- 
tion. He  rained  a  shower  of  kicks  and  blows  upon  Gun- 
powder, hoping  by  a  sudden  movement  to  give  liis  com- 


Analysis. — 1 11.  Parse  got  over. 

114.  What  is  the  subject  of  bethought  f 

116.  Name  the  antecedent  of  Aim. 

118.  Dispose  of  tlie  expression  pulled  up. 

120.  Is  endeavored  transitive  or  intransitive? 

121.  Give  the  principal  parts  of  clove. 

122.  What  is  the  meaning  of  slave  f 

122,  123.  What  are  tlie  modifiers  of  iomethingf 
125.  Parse  tlie  verb  in  tlie  clause. 
127.  What  is  the  meaning  of  relief  as  used  here? 
133.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line. 


WASHINGTON  IRVING.  395 

panion  the  slip.  But  the  spectre  started  full  jump  with  135 
hirn.  Away  they  dashed  through  thick  and  thin,  stones 
flying  and  sparks  flashing  at  every  bound.  Ichabod'a 
flimsy  garments  fluttered  in  the  air  as  he  stretched  his 
long,  lank  body  away  over  his  horse's  head  in  the  eager- 
ness of  his  flight HO 

An  opening  in  the  trees  now  cheered  him  with  the 
hojtes  tliat  the  church-bridge  was  at  hand.  The  waver- 
ing reflection  of  a  silver  star  in  the  bosom  of  the  brook 
told  him  that  he  was  not  mistaken.  He  saw  the  walls 
of  the  church  dimly  glaring  under  the  trees  beyond.  He  145 
recollected  the  place  where  Brom  Bones's  ghostly  com- 
petitor had  disappeared.  "  If  I  can  but  reach  that 
bridge,"  thought  Ichabod,  "  I  am  safe."  Just  then  he 
heard  the  black  steed  panting  and  blowing  close  behind 
him ;  he  even  fancied  that  he  felt  his  hot  breath.  An- 150 
other  convulsive  kick  in  the  ribs,  and  old  Gunpowder 
sprang  upon  the  bridge ;  he  thundered  over  the  resound- 
ing planks  ;  he  gained  the  opposite  side;  and  now  Ich- 
abod cast  a  look  behind  to  see  if  his  pursuer  should 
vanish,  according  to  rule,  in  a  flash  of  flre  and  brim- 155 
stone.  Just  then  he  saw  the  goblin  rising  in  his  stir- 
rups, and  in  the  very  act  of  hurling  his  head  at  hira. 
lohabod  endeavored  to  dodge  the  horrible  missile,  but 


Analysis. — 135.  Dispone  of  the  words  full  jump. 

136.  thkk  and  thin.     Parse.     In  what  case  ia  stones* 

14S.  a  silver  star.     What  fissure? 

14S    What  is  tiie  object  of  IhoiHjhtt 

149.  panting  and  hhwintj.     Wl\at  parts  of  speech? 

close      Wliat  does  this  word  motiify  V 
150    Dispose  of  even. 
152.   What  figure  in  the  line? 

154,  156.  should  vaniih.     Is  the  expression  as  here  used  correct? 

155.  acccnding  to.     Parse. 

157.  What  is  the  antecedent  of  hit*    Of  himf 


396        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

too  late.   It  encountered  his  craninm  with  a  tremendous 
crash.     lie  was  tumbled  headlong  into  the  dust,  and  160 
Gunpowder,  the  black  steed,  and  tlie  goblin  rider  passed 
by  like  a  whirlwind. 

Tlie  next  morning  the  old  liorse  was  found  without 
his  saddle,  and  with  the  bridle  under  his  feet,  soberly 
cropping  tlie  grass  at  his  master's  gate,  Ichabod  did  165 
nDt  make  his  appearance  at  breakfast.  Dinner-hour 
came,  but  no  Ichabod  !  The  boys  assembled  at  the 
school-house  and  strolled  idly  about  the  banks  of  the 
brook;  but  no  schoolmaster.  Hans  Van  Ripper  now 
began  to  feel  some  uneasiness  about  the  fate  of  poor  170 
Ichabod  and  liis  saddle.  An  inquiry  was  set  on  foot, 
and.  after  diligent  investigation  they  came  ujion  liis 
traces.  In  one  part  of  the  road  leading  to  the  church 
was  found  the  saddle  trampled  in  the  dirt;  the  tracks 
of  horses'  hoofs,  deeply  dented  in  the  road,  and  evi- 176 
dently  at  furious  speed,  were  traced  to  the  bridge,  be- 
yond which,  on  the  bank  of  a  broad  part  of  the  brook, 
where  the  water  ran  deep  and  black,  was  found  the  ha-t 
of  the  unfortunate  Ichabod,  and  close  beside  it  a  shat- 
tered pumpkin.  180 

Anai.,YSIS. — 162.  Dispose  of  like  and  ivhirlwind. 

163.  In  what  case  is  morning  f 

167.  Paiise  Ichabod. 

169.  Disjxise  of  tlie  word  schoolmaster. 

171.  Dispose  of  set  on  foot. 

173.  where  the  water  ran,  etc.     What  does  the  chiuse  modify  I 

Disj)()se  of  dee))  an(i  black. 
180.  In  what  case  is  the  word  vumnkin  f 


15.  JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER, 

1789-1851. 

James  Fenimore  Cooper,  the  celebrated  American 
novelist,  was  born  at  Burlington,  N.  J.,  September  15, 
17S9.  His  father,  Judge  William  Cooper,  removed  to 
the  wild  frontier-region  of  New  York  State,  however,  in 
the  year  1790,  where  the  novelist  spent  his  boyhood 
years  up  to  the  age  of  thirteen,  when  he  entered  Yale 
College.  After  three  years  of  college-life  he  withdrew 
to  become  a  midshipman  in  the  United  States  navy, 
where  he  followed  the  life  of  a  sailor  for  six  years,  and 
acquired  mucli  of  the  knowledge  and  experience  which 
in  after-life  made  his  sea-novels  so  popular  and  success- 
ful. In  1811  lie  married  the  sister  of  Bishop  De  Lancey, 
and  soon  after  resigned  his  commission  as  lieutenant  in 
the  navy,  and  located  at  Mamaroneck,  near  the  city  of 
New  York. 

Cooper's  literary  life  is  said  to  have  had  this  curious 
beginning :  While  sitting  one  evening  engaged  in  read- 
ing a  novel  to  his  wife,  he  suddenly  declared  his  belief 
that  he  could  write  a  better  novel  himself;  to  prove  it, 
he  made  the  experiment,  and  produced  Precaution,  which 
was  published  anonymously  in  1819.  But  his  book  at- 
tracted very  little  attention,  and  it  is  said  he  never  after 
claimed  it  among  his  writings. 

In  1821  he  i)ublished  The  Spy,  a  novel  founded  on  the 
incidents  of  tiie  Revolution.  This  possessed  so  much 
power  and  interest  as  a  romance  that  it  became  popular 
lit  once,  not  only  in  America,  but  also  in  Eiircipe,  where 

397 


398        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITEBATURK 

it  was  translated  into  nearly  all  the  continental  lan- 
guages, as  well  as  into  Persian  and  Arabic.  It  bore 
such  a  fiivorable  comparison  to  the  Waverley  Novels 
that  Cooi:»er  acquired  the  name  of  "  the  American  Wal- 
ter Scott.'" 

In  1823  the  author's  fame  was  still  more  increased  by 
The  Pilot,  the  iirst  of  his  sea-tales.  This  was  followed 
by  a  long  list  of  novels :  Lionel  Lincoln,  The  Last  of  the 
Mohicans,  The  Red  Rover,  The  Prairie,  Wept  of  Wish-ton- 
Wish,  The  Pathfinder,  and  many  others,  the  number  of 
novels  being  thirty-three.  Nine  of  these  are  sea-tales, 
and  five  form  "The  Leatherstocking  Series." 

Cooper's  best  novels  are  conceded  to  be  The  Spy,  The 
Pilot,  The  Last  of  the  Mohicans,  The  Red  Rover,  and  The 
Prairie.  In  addition  to  his  novels  he  also  published  a 
Naval  History  of  the  United  States,  Lives  of  American  Naval 
Officers,  and  a  number  of  sketches  of  European  travel. 

Cooper,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  had  in  press  an  his- 
torical work,  21ie  Toxons  of  Manhattan,  and  he  contem- 
plated writing  a  sixth  Leatherstocking  tale.  He  died 
suddenly  at  Cooperstown,  N.  Y.,  on  the  lltli  of  Sep- 
tember, 1851. 


CRITICISM   BY    RUFUS   W.   GRI-'^WOLD. 

Cooper  has  the  faculty  of  giving  to  his  pictur*^^  an 
astonishing  reality.  Tiiey  are  not  mere  transcripts  of 
Nature,  though  as  such  they  would  possess  extraoidi- 
nary  merit,  but  actual  creations,  embodying  the  very 
Bl)irit  of  intelligent  and  genial  experience  and  obser- 
vation. His  Indians,  notwithstanding  all  that  has  oeen 
written  to  the  contrary,  are  no  more  iiilcTior  in  fidelity 
than  they  are  in  poetical  interest  to  tliose  uf  his  most 
Buccessful  imitators  or  rivals. 

His  hunters  and   trappers  liave  (lie   same  vividness 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER.  399 

and  freshness,  and  in  the  whole  realm  of  fiction  there 
is  nothing  more  actual,  harmonious,  and  sustained. 
They  evince  not  only  the  first  order  of  inventive  powea, 
but  a  profoundly  philosophical  study  of  the  infiuencea 
of  situation  upon  human  character. 

He  treads  the  deck  with  the  conscious  i)ride  of  home 
and  dominion :  the  aspects  of  the  sea  and  sky,  the  ter- 
rors of  the  tornado,  the  excitement  of  the  chase,  the 
tumult  of  battle,  fire,  and  wreck,  are  presented  by  him 
with  a  freedom  and  breadth  of  outline,  a  glow  and 
strength  of  coloring  and  contrast,  and  a  distinctness 
and  truth  of  general  and  particular  conception,  that 
place  him  far  in  advance  of  all  the  other  artists  who 
have  attempted  with  pen  or  pencil  to  paint  the  ocean. 

THE  WRECK   OF  THE  ARIEL. 

Note. — The  following  sketch  is  taken  from  The  Pilot,  one  of 
Cooper's  best  sea-tales.  It  portrays  vividly  the  death  of  Dillon  and 
the  fidelity  of  Long  Tom  Cothn,  the  coxswain.  The  opening  line  is 
tlie  pleading  of  Men-y,  a  midshipman,  in  his  eliort  to  induce  the 
commander,  Barnstable,  to  leave  the  ship  and  save  himself  by 
taking  to  the  whale-boat  in  which  his  sailors  are  waiting  for  him. 

"  Now,  hear  me,"  said  the  boy,  urging  his  request  to 
tears :  "  if  not  for  rny  sake  or  for  your  own  sake,  Mr. 
Barnstable,  or  for  the  hopes  of  God's  mercy,  go  into  the 
boat  for  the  love  of  my  cousin  Katherine." 

The  young  lieutenant  paused  in  his  troubled  walk,  5 
and  for  a  moment  he  cast  a  glance  of  hesitation  at  the 
cliffs ;  but  at  the  next  instant  his  eyes  fell  on  the  ruin 
of  his  vessel ;  and  he  answered, 


Analysis. — 1,  2    Explain  the  latter  part  of  the  line  urging 
tears. 

1-4.  Analj'ze  the  sentence. 

5    Point    ut  t  le  figure  in  the  line. 


100        STUDIES  IN  AMERWAN  LITERATURE. 

"  Never,  boy,  never !  If  my  hour  lias  come,  I  will  not 
shrink  from  my  fate."  10 

"  Listen  to  the  men,  dear  sir:  the  boat  will  be  swamped 
alongside  the  wreck,  and  their  cry  is  that  without  you 
tliey  will  not  let  her  go." 

Barnstable  motioned  to  the  boat,  to  bid  the  boy  enter 
it,  ai:d  turned  away  in  silence.  15 

*'  Well,"  said  Merry  with  firmness,  ''  if  it  be  right  that 
a  lieutenant  shall  stay  by  the  wreck,  it  must  also  be 
right  for  a  midshipman. — Shove  olf :  neither  Mr.  Barn- 
stable nor  myself  will  quit  the  vessel." 

"  Boy,  your  life  has  been  entrusted  to  my  keeping,  20 
and  at  my  hands  will  it  be  re(|uired,"  said  his  com- 
mander, lifting  the  struggling  youth  and  tossing  him 
into  the  arms  of  the  seamen.  "  Away  with  ye !  and 
God  be  with  you !  There  is  more  weight  in  you  now 
than  can  go  safe  to  land."  25 

Still  the  seamen  hesitated,  for  they  perceived  the  cox- 
swain moving  with  a  steady  tread  along  the  deck,  and 
they  hoped  he  had  relented,  and  would  yet  persuade 
the  lieutenant  to  join  his  crew.  But  Tom,  imitating  the 
example  of  his  commander,  seized  the  latter  suddenly  30 
in  his  powerful  grasp,  and  threw  him  over  the  bulwarks 
with  an  irresistible  force.  At  the  same  moment  he  cast 
the  fast  of  the  boat  from  the  pin  that  held  it ;  and,  lift- 
ing his  ])road  hands  high  into  the  air,  his  voice  was 
hnard  in  the  tempest.  35 

'*  God's  will  be  done  witli  me !"  he  cried.     "  I  saw  the 


Analysis. — 0.  What  is  meant  by  my  hourf 

12.  Point  out  tiie  attrihiite-clanse. 

14.  Explain  tlie  office  f>f  to  biiL 

23.  Axvay  with  ye  I     I)isjiose  of  these  wurds. 

28.  Name  tlie  object  of  hoped. 

32,  .33.  Explain  the.se  lines. 

36.  Point  out  the  object  o*"  cr'oL 


JAMES  FENUIORE  COOPER.  401 

first  timber  of  the  Ariel  laid,  and  shall  live  j'lst  long 
enough  to  see  it  turn  out  of  her  bottom ;  after  which  I 
wish  to  live  no  longer." 

But  his  shipmates  were  swept  far  beyond  the  sounds  -10 
of  his  voice  before  half  these  words  were  uttered.     All 
command  of  the  boat  was  rendered  impossible  by  the 
numbers  it  contained,  as  well  as  the  raging  of  the  s  irf ; 
and  as  it  rose  on  the  white  crest  of  a  wave  Tom  saw  his 
beloved  little  craft  for  the  last  time.    It  fell  into  a  trough  45 
of  the  sea ;  and  in  a  few  moments  more  its  fragments 
were  ground  into  splinters  on  the  adjacent  rocks.     The 
coxswain  still  remained  where  he  liad  cast  ofi'  the  rope, 
and  beheld  the  numerous  heads  and  arms  that  appeared 
rising  at  short  intervals  on  the  waves — some  making  50 
powerful   and  well-directed   efforts   to  gain  the   sands, 
that  were  becoming  visible  as  the  tide  fell,  and  others 
wildly  tossed  in  the  frantic  movements  of  helpless  de- 
spair.    The  honest  old  seaman  gave  a  cry  of  joy  as  he 
saw  Barnstable  issue  from  the  surf  bearing  the  form  of  55 
Merry  in  safety  to  the  sands,  where,  one  by  one,  several 
seamen  soon  appeared  also,  dripping   and  exhausted. 
Many   others   of  the   crew  were   carried   in   a   similar 
manner  to  places  of  safety,  though,  as  Tom  returned 
to  his  seat  on  tlie  bowsprit,  he  could  not  conceal  from  60 
his  reluctant  eyes  the  lifeless  forms  that  were,  in  other 
spots,  driven  against  the  rocks  with  a  fury  that  soon  left 
tliem  but  few  of  the  outward  vestiges  of  humanity. 

Dillon  and  the  coxswain  were  now  the  sole  occupants 
of  their  dreadful  station.     The  former  stood  in  a  kiQd65 


Analysis. — 40.  What  does  far  modify? 
41.  Is  vjere  uttered  correct  aji  used  here? 
4.3.  Give  the  case  of  ragimj.     What  tijjure  in  the  line? 
45.  Give  a  synonym  for  craft. 
45,  46.  trough  of  the  sea.     Wliat  figure  ? 
61.  reluctant  eyes.     What  fif^ure? 
26 


402        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

of  stupid  despair,  a  witness  of  the  scene  we  liave  related  ; 
but  as  his  curdled  blood  began  again  to  flow  more  warmly 
through  his  heart  he  crept  close  to  tlie  side  of  Tom  with 
that  sort  of  selfish  feeling  that  makes  even  hoiDclesa 
misery  more  tolerable  when  endured  in  participation  7^ 
with  another. 

"  When  the  tide  falls,"  lie  said  in  a  voice  that  betrayed 
the  agony  of  fear,  though  his  words  expressed  the  re- 
newal of  hope,  *'  we  shall  be  able  to  walk  to  land." 

"  There  was  One,  and  onl}'  One,  to  whose  feet  the  waters  75 
were  the  same  as  a  dry  deck,"  returned  the  coxswain ; 
"  and  none  but  such  as  have  His  power  will  ever  he  able 
to  walk  from  these  rocks  to  the  sands."  The  old  seaman 
paused,  and  turning  his  eyes,  which  exhibited  a  mingled 
expression  of  disgust  and  compassion,  on  his  companion,  80 
he  added,  with  reverence,  "Had  you  thought  more  of 
Him  in  fair  weather,  your  case  would  be  less  to  be 
pitied  in  this  tempest." 

"Do  you  still  think  there  is  much  danger?"  asked 
Dillon.  85 

"  To  them  that  have  reason  to  fear  death.  Listen ! 
Do  you  hear  that  hollow  noise  beneath  ye?" 

"  'Tis  the  wind  driving  by  the  vessel." 

"  'Tis  the  poor  thing  herself,"  said  the  affected  cox- 
swain, "giving  her  last  groans.     The  water  is  breaking  M 
upon  her  decks,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more  the  hand- 
Bomest  model  that  ever  cut  a  wave  will  be  like   the 
chips  thai  fell  from  her  in  framing." 


Analysis. — 66.  In  what  case  is  wUrvMf 

68.  What  does  the  wurd  cIokc  modify? 

72-74.  Analyze  tliis  sentence. 

7.S-77.  What  fiRiire? 

77.  How  are  such  and  (w  used  ? 

89.  Name  the  antecedent  of  thing. 

90-93.   What  azures  in  '.licse  line*,? 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER.  403 

"  ^^^ly,  then,  did  you  remain  here  ?"  cried  Dillon 
wildly.  95 

"  To  die  in  my  coffin,  if  it  should  be  ih©  will  of  God," 
returned  Tom.  "  These  waves  are  to  me  what  the  land 
is  to  you :  I  was  born  on  them,  and  I  have  always  meant 
that  they  shall  be  my  grave." 

"  But — I — I,"  shrieked  Dillon,  "  I  am   not  ready  to  100 
die! — I  cannot  die! — I  will  not  die!" 

"  Poor  wretch  !"  muttered  his  companion,  "  you  must 
go  like  the  rest  of  us ;  when  the  death-watch  is  called, 
none  can  skulk  from  the  muster." 

"  I  can  swim,"  Dillon  continued,  rushing  with  frantic  105 
eagerness  to  the  side  of  the  wreck.     "  Is  there  no  billet 
of  wood,  no  rope,  that  I  can  take  with  me?" 

"  None ;  everything  has  been  cut  away  or  carried  ofif 
by  the  sea.    If  you  are  about  to  strive  for  your  life,  take 
with  you  a  stout  heart  and  a  clean  conscience,  and  trust  110 
the  rest  to  God." 

"  God !"  echoed  Dillon  in  the  madness  of  his  frenzy. 
"  I  know  no  God ;  there  is  no  God  that  knows  me  I" 

"Peace!"  said  the  deep  tones  of  the  coxswain,  in  a 
voice  that   seemed  to   speak   in   the   elements ;   "  bias- 115 
phemer,  peace  I" 

The  heavy  groaning  produced  by  the  water  in  the 
timbers  of  the  Ariel  at  that  moment  added  its  impulse 
to  the  raging  feelings  of  Dillon,  and  he  cast  himself 
headlong  into  the  sea.  The  water,  thrown  by  the  roll- 120 
ing  of  the  surf  on  the  beach,  was  necessarily  returned 
to  the  ocean  in  eddies,  in  different  places  favorable  to 
Buch  an  action  of  the  element.  Into  the  edge  of  one 
ol  these  counter-currents,  that  was  produced  by  the 

Analysis. — 103.  Parse  like  and  rest. 

103,  104.  Point  out  the  figure. 

109.  about  to  strive,  etc.     This  is  a  prepositional  phrase-aftribate. 

116.  In  what  case  is  peace/ 


404        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

very  rocks  on  which  the  schooner  lay,  and  wliich  the  IZ'i 
watermen  call  the  "  under-tow,"  Dillon   had  unknow- 
ingly thrown   his  person ;    and  when   the   waves   had 
driven  him  a  short  distance  from  the  wreck,  he  was 
met  by  a  stream  that  his  most  des})crato  efforts  could 
not  overcome.     He  was  a  light  and  i)owerful  swimmer,  130 
and  the  struggle  was  hard   and  })rotracted.     With  the 
shore  immediately  before  his  e3'es  and  at  no  great  dis- 
tance, he  was  led,  as  by  a  false  phantom,  to  continue  his 
efforts,  although  they  did  not  advance  him  a  foot.     The 
old  seaman,  who  at  first  had  watched  his  motions  with  135 
careless  indifference,  understood  the  danger  of  his  situa- 
tion at  a  glance,  and,  forgetful  of  his  own  fate,  he  shouted 
aloud,  in  a  voice  that  was  driven  over  the  struggling 
victim  to  the  ears  of  his  shipmates  on  the  sands, 

*'  Sheer  to  port,  and  clear  the  under-tovv  I     Sheer  to  140 
the  southward  1" 

Dillon  heard  the  sounds,  but  his  foculties  were  too 
much  obscured  by  terror  to  distinguish  their  object: 
he,  however,  blindly  yielded  to  the  call,  and  gradually 
changed  his  direction  until  his  face  was  once  more  145 
turned  toward  the  vessel.  The  current  swept  him 
diagonally  by  the  rocks,  and  he  was  forced  into  an 
eddy  where  he  had  nothing  to  contend  against  ]>ut 
the  waves,  whose  violence  was  nmch  ])roken  by  the 
wreck.  In  this  state  he  continued  still  to  struggle,  but  150 
with  a  force  that  was  too  much  weakened  to  overcome 
the  resistance  he  met.  Tom  looked  around  him  for  a 
rope,  but  not  one  presented  itself  to  his  hands ;  all  had 
gone  over  with  the  8])ars  or  been  swept  away  by  the 
waves.  At  this  moment  of  disa])pointment  his  eyes  155 
met  those  of  the  desperate  Dillon.  Calm  and  inured 
to  horrors  aa  was  the  veteran  seaman,  he  involuntarily 


Analyhis. — 137.  Name  the  modiCiers  of  Hlmuted. 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER.  405 

passed  his  hand  before  his  brow  as  if  to  excluile  the 
look  of  despair  he  encountered ;  and  when,  a  moment 
afterward,  he  removed  the  rigid  member,  he  beheld  the  160 
sinking  form  of  the  victim  as  it  gradually  settled  in  the 
ocean,  still  struggling  with  regular  but  impotent  strokes 
of  the  arms  and  feet  to  gain  the  wreck  and  to  preserve 
an  existence  that  had  been  so  much  abused  in  its  hour 
of  allotted  probation.    "He  will  soon  know  his  God,  165 
and  learn  that  his  God   knows  him,"  murmured  the 
coxswain  to  himself     As  he  yet  spoke  the  wreck  of 
the  Ariel  yielded  to  an  overwhelming  sea,  and  after  a 
universal   shudder  her  timbers  and  planks  gave  way, 
and  were  swept  toward  the  cliffs,  bearing  the  body  of  170 
the  simple-hearted  coxswain  among  the  ruins. 


Analysis. — 158.  Dispose  of  as  if. 
161.  the  victim.    AVlio  is  meant? 

168.  overwhelming  sea.     What  figure? 

169.  univerml  shudder.    Criticise.    Point  out  the  figure  in  the  line 
171.  simple-hearted.     Wliat  figure' 


16.  NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE, 

1804-1864. 

Nathaniel  HAWinoRNE,  an  American  novelist  of  rare 
meiit,  was  born  in  Salem,  Massachusetts,  July  4,  1804. 
He  entered  Bowdoin  College,  Maine,  and  graduated  in 
1825  in  the  same  class  with  the  poet  Longfellow.  Ex- 
President  Franklin  Pierce,  who  was  a  member  of  the 
class  of  1824,  was  his  intimate  personal  friend. 

After  quitting  college,  Hawthorne  resided  many  years 
in  Salem,  leading  a  life  of  solitude,  meditation,  and 
study.  It  is  said  he  secluded  himself  even  from  his 
own  family,  walking  out  alone  at  night,  and  spending 
the  days  in  writing  wild  and  fanciful  tales,  most  of 
which  he  burned,  but  some  of  which  were  printed  ia 
the  periodicals  of  the  day. 

His  first  literary  venture  was  a  romance  entitled  Fan- 
shaive,  which  was  published  anonymously  in  1828.  Haw- 
thorne, however,  never  acknowledged  its  authorsliip,  and 
it  was  never  reprinted. 

His  first  successful  work  was  a  collection  of  tales  which 
he  selected  from  his  previously  pubhshed  sketches  in  the 
various  periodicals,  called  Twice-Told  Tales.  Longfellow 
spoke  of  it  in  the  North  American  Review  in  high  praise, 
but  it  at  first  did  not  attract  much  attention  from  the 
pul)lic  Gradually,  however,  it  won  its  way  to  favor, 
and  in  1842  a  new  edition  was  issued. 

In  1838,  Hawthorne  was  appointed  a  weigher  and 
gauger  in  the  custom-house  at  Salem  by  the  historian 
Bancroft,  who  was  then  surveyor  of  the  port,  and  he 
held  this  position  until  tlie  Presidency  of  Harrison  in 

406 


NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE.  4C7 

1841,  when  he  was  removed.  He  then  lived  for  a  time 
at  Brook  Farm,  being  one  of  the  founders  of  the  com- 
munity, but  soon  removed  to  Boston,  where  lie  married 
Miss  Sophia  Peabody,  and  then  took  up  his  residence 
in  th-  old  manse  at  Concord,  where  he  wrote  Mosses 
from  an  Old  Manse,  published  in  1846. 

Ir  this  same  year  Mr.  Hawthorne  was  appointed  sur- 
\eyor  of  the  port  of  Saleiii,  and,  removing  thither,  he 
held  the  position  for  three  years.  His  next  novel,  and 
the  most  powerful  and  popular  he  ever  wrote,  TTie  Scar- 
let Letter,  was  pul)lished  in  the  year  1850.  This  story 
gave  its  author  a  widespread  reputation  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic.  The  next  year  he  published  The  House 
of  Seven  Gables,  and  in  1852  The  BUthedale  liomance. 
During  this  same  year  he  returned  to  Concord,  but  the 
next  year  his  friend  President  Pierce  appointed  him 
consul  at  I>iverpool,  a  post  which  he  held  until  1857, 
when  he  resigned  and  spent  two  years  in  travel  through 
France  and  Italy.  On  his  return  to  the  United  States 
in  1860  he  published  Tlie  Marble  Faun,\)y  many  thouglit 
to  be  his  best  romance.  In  addition  to  the  above-men- 
tioned works  he  published  True  Stories  from  History  and 
Biography,  The  Wonder-Book  for  Boys  and  Girh,  Tanyle- 
ivood  Tales,  Our  Old  Home,  and  others. 

Hawthorne  lived  quietly  at  liis  Concord  home  from 
1860  to  1864,  when  he  set  out  on  a  journey  through 
New  Hampshire  with  his  friend  ex-President  Pierce. 
Having  reached  a  hotel  at  Plymouth,  he  stopped  for 
the  night,  and  was  found  dead  in  his  bed  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  May  19,  1864. 

CRITICISM  BY  R.  H.  STODDARD. 

The  writings  of  Hawthorne  are  marked  by  subtle 
imagination,  conscious  power  of  analysis,  ard  exquisite 


408  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

diction.  He  studied  exceptional  developments  of  cha 
meter,  and  was  fond  of  exploring  secret  crypts  of  emo- 
tion. His  shorter  stories  are  remarkable  for  originality 
and  suggestiveness,  and  his  larger  ones  are  as  absolute 
creations  as  Hamlet  or  IhnUne.  Lacking  the  accomplish- 
ment of  verse,  he  was  in  the  highest  sense  a  poet.  His 
work  is  pervaded  by  manly  personality  and  by  almost 
feminint  delicacy  and  gentleness.  He  inherited  the 
gravity  of  his  Puritan  ancestors,  witliout  their  super- 
stition, and  learned  in  his  solitary  meditations  a  know- 
ledge of  the  night-side  of  life  which  would  have  filled 
them  with  suspicion.  A  i)rofound  anatomist  of  tlie 
heart,  he  was  singularly  free  from  morbidness,  and  in 
his  darkest  speculations  concerning  evil  was  robustly 
right-minded.  He  worshiped  conscience  with  his  in- 
tellectual as  well  as  his  moral  nature ;  it  is  supreme  in 
all  he  wrote.  Besides  these  mental  traits,  he  possessed 
the  literary  quality  of  style — a  grace,  a  charm,  a  per- 
fection of  language,  which  no  other  American  writer 
ever  possessed  in  the  same  degree,  and  which  places 
him  among  the  great  masters  of  English  prose. 

THE  OLD  MANSE. 

Note. — The  following  extract,  which  is  a  part  of  Hawthorne's  de- 
Bcription  of  his  home  at  Concord,  is  taken  from  Mosses  from  an  Old 
Manse.  Tlie  manse  was  locate<l  near  the  scene  of  the  Concord  fight 
rf  April,  1775. 

Pkrhaps  the  reader — whom  I  cannot  help  considering 
{18  my  guest  in  the  Old  Manse,  and  entitled  to  all  cour- 
tesy in  the  way  of  sight-showing, — perhaps  ho  will 
choose  to  take  a  nearer  view  of  the  memorable  spot. 
We  stand  now  on  the  river's  brink.  It  may  well  be  5 
called  the  Concord,  tl^e  river  of  peace  and  quietness,  fof 

Analysis.- -4.  Why  vievwraJhle  »poif 


NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE.  409 

it  is  certainly  the  most  unexcitable  and  sluggish  stream 
that  ever  loitered,  imperceptibly,  toward  its  eternity,  the 
sea.     Positively,  I  had  lived  three  weeks  beside  it  before 
it  grew  quite  clear  to  my  perception  which  way  the  cur-  iJ 
rent  llowed.     It  never  has  a  vivacious  aspect,  except 
wlien  a  north-western  breeze  is  vexing  its  surface  on  a 
sunshiny  day.     From  the  incurable  indolence  of  its  na- 
ture the  stream  is  happily  incapable  of  becoming  the 
slave  of  human  ingenuity,  as  is  the  fate  of  so  many  a  15 
wild,  free  mountain-torrent.     While  all  things  else  are 
compelled  to  subserve  some  useful  ])urpose,  it  idles  its 
sluggish  life  away  in  lazy  liberty,  without  turning  a  sol- 
itary spindle  or  affording  even  water-])ower  enough  to 
grind  the  corn  that  grows  upon  its  banks.     The  torpor  20 
of  its  movement  allows   it  nowhere   a  bright,  pebbly 
shore,  nor  so  much  as  a  narrow  strip  of  glistening  sand 
in  any  part  of  its  course.     It  slumbers  between  broad 
prairies,  kissing  the  long  meadow-grass,  and  l)athes  the 
overhanging  boughs  of  elder-bushes  and  willows  or  the  25 
roots  of  elm  and  ash  trees  and  clumps  of  maples.     Flags 
and  rushes  grow  along   its   plashy  shore;    the  yellow 
water-lily  spreads  its  broad,  flat  leaves  on  the  margin ; 
and  the  fragrant  white  pond-lily  abounds,. generally  se- 
lecting a  position  just  so  far  from  the  river's  brink  that  3C 
it  cannot  be  grasped  save  at  the  hazard  of  plunging  in. 

Analysis. — 7.  unexcitable.     What  figure  here? 

8.  Point  out  tlie  figure  in  the  line. 

9,  10.  before  it.     What  is  the  modifipj  o(  ilf 

12.  Point  out  the  figure  in  the  Hue. 

13,  14.  Name  the  figures. 
16.  DisjiUvse  of  eUe. 

18.  What  figure  in  the  line? 

tolitary.    Give  tlie  meaning. 
23.  It  slumhen.     Wliat  figure  ? 
25.  Point  out  the  figure. 
.30.  Wlial  figure  in  liie  line? 


410        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

It  is  a  marvel  wlience  this  perfect  liower  derives  its 
loveliness  and  perfume,  springing  as  it  does  from  the 
black  mud  over  which  the  river  sleeps,  and  where  lurk 
the  slimy  eel,  and  speckled  frog,  and  the  mud-turtle  :J5 
whom  continual  washing  cannot  cleanse.  It  is  the 
very  same  black  mud  out  of  which  the  yellow  lily 
sucks  its  rank  life  and  noisome  odor.  Thus  we  see, 
too,  in  the  world,  that  some  persons  assimilate  only 
what  is  ugly  and  evil  from  the  same  moral  circum-  40 
stances  which  supply  good  and  beautiful  results- -the 
fragrance  of  celestial  flowers — to  the  daily  life  of 
others 

The  Old  Manse ! — we  had  almost  forgotten  it,  but  will 
return  thither  through  the  orchard.     This  was  set  out  45 
by  the  last  clergymfm  in  the  decline  of  his  life,  when  the 
neighbors  lauglied  at  the  hoary-headed  man  for  planting 
trees  from  which  he  could  have  no  prospect  of  gather- 
ing fruit.     Even  had  that  been  the  case,  there  was  only 
so  much  the  better  motive  for  planting  them  in  the  pure  50 
and  unselfish  hope  of  benefiting  his  successors — an  end 
so  seldom  achieved  by  more  ambitious  efforts.     But  the 
old   minister,   before  reaching   his  patriarchal   age  of 
ninety,  ate  the  apples  from  this  orchard  during  many 
years,  and  added  silver  and  gold  to  his  annual  stipend  (5 
by  disposing  of  the  superfluity. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  of  him  walking  among  the 


Analysis. — .32.  Name  the  modifier  of  It. 

34.  I'oiiit  out  the  figure. 

37    Parse  very. 

38.  nnwmie.     (Jive  tlie  meaning. 

42.  Point  out  tlie  figure. 

44.  Exphiin  tliu  line. 

45.  Parse  id  out. 

49,  50.  only  so  muck  lite  teller.     Parse  these  worci». 

51,  52.  an  end,  etc.     What  does  the  expres-sion  modify? 


NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE.  411 

trees  in  the  quiet  afternoons  of  early  autumn,  and  pick- 
ing up  here  and  there  a  windfall,  while  he  observes  how 
heavily  the  brandies  are  weighed  down,  and  computes  GO 
the  number  of  empty  flour-barrels  that  will  be  filled  by 
Uieir  burden.  He  loved  each  tree,  doubtless,  as  if  it 
had  been  his  own  child.  An  orchard  has  a  relation  to 
mankind,  and  readily  connects  itself  with  matters  of 
tlie  heart.  The  trees  possess  a  domestic  character ;  they  '.5 
have  lost  the  wild  nature  of  their  forest  kindred,  and 
have  grown  humanized  by  receiving  the  care  of  man  as 
well  as  by  contributing  to  his  wants. 

I  have  met  with  no  other  such  pleasant  trouble  in 
the  world  as  that  of  finding  myself,  with  only  the  two  70 
or  three  mouths  which  it  was  my  privilege  to  feed,  the 
sole  inheritor  of  the  old  clergyman's  wealth  of  fruits. 
Throughout  the  summer  there  were  cherries  and  cur- 
rants ;  and  then  came  Autumn,  with  liis  immense  bur- 
den of  apples,  dropping  them  continually  from  his  over-  75 
laden  shoulders  as  he  trudged  along.      In  the  stillest 
afternoon,  if  I  listened,  the  thump  of  a  great  apple  was 
audible,  falling  without  a  breath  of  wind,  from  the  mere 
necessity  of  perfect  ripeness.    And,  besides,  there  were 
pear  trees  that  flung  down  bushels  upon  bushels  of  80 
heavy  pears ;  and  peach  trees  which,  in  a  good  year,  tor- 
mented me  with  peaches,  neither  to  be  eaten  nor  kept, 
nor,  without  labor  and  perplexity,  to  be  given  away. 

The  idea  of  an  infinite  generosity  and  inexhaustible 
Lounty  on  the  part  of  our  motlier  Nature  was  well  worth  85 
obtaining  through  such  cares  as  these.    That  feeling  can 

Ak  iLYSis. — 60.  weighed  down.     Parse 

62.  Dispose  of  doubtless. 

74.  Point  o'.U  tlie  ligiire. 

77.  thump.     Wliat  tigiire? 

81,  82.  tormented,  etc.     What  figure? 

86,  80.  What  tignre  in  the  lineV     Parse  well  icorth  obtaining. 


412        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

be  enjoyed  in  perfection  not  only  by  tiie  natives  of  sum- 
mer islands,  where  the  bread-fruit,  the  cocoa,  the  palm, 
and  the  orange  grow  spontaneously  and  hold  forth  the 
ever-ready  meal,  but  likewise  almost  as  well  by  a  man  90 
long  habituated  to  city  life,  who  plunges  into  such  a 
solitude  as  that  of  the  Old  Manse,  where  he  plucks  tlie 
fruit  of  trees  that  he  did  not  plant,  and  which,  theie- 
fore,  to  my  heterodox  taste,  bear  the  closer  resemblance 
to  those  that  grew  in  Eden.  95 

Not  that  it  can  be  disputed  that  the  light  toil  requisite 
to  cultivate  a  moderately  sized  garden  imparts  such  zest 
to  kitchen  vegetables  as  is  never  found  in  those  of  the 
market-gardener.  Childless  men,  if  they  would  know 
something  of  the  bliss  of  paternity,  should  plant  a  seed,  100 
be  it  squash,  bean,  Indian  corn,  or  perhaps  a  mere  flower 
or  worthless  weed — should  jilant  it  with  their  own  hands, 
and  nurse  it  from  infancy  to  maturity  altogether  by  their 
own  care.  If  tliere  be  not  too  many  of  them,  each  in- 
dividual plant  becomes  an  object  of  separate  interest.       105 

My  garden,  that  skirted  the  avenue  of  the  Manse,  was 
of  precisely  the  right  extent.  An  hour  of  two  of  morn- 
ing labor  was  all  tliat  was  required.  But  I  used  to  visit 
and  revisit  it  a  dozen  times  a  day,  and  stand  in  deep 
contemplation  over  my  vegetable  progeny  with  a  love  110 
that  nobody  could  share  or  conceive  of  who  had  never 
taken  part  in  the  process  of  creation.     It  was  one  of  the 

Analysis. — 88.  Parse  where. 
89,  90.  Name  the  figure. 
91.  Give  a  synonym  for  Iiabittialed. 

93.  Parse  that. 

94.  Why  lielerodox  taslef 

96.  Name  the  modifier  of  it. 
10.3.  Point  out  tiie  figure. 

110.  veyetahle  prof/emj.     What  figure? 

111.  conceive  of .     Parse. 

112.  Name  the  modifier  of  U. 


NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE.  413 

most  bewitching  sights  in  the  world  to  obsen  e  a  hill  of 
beans  thrusting  aside  the  soil,  or  a  row  of  earl}'  peas  jus* 
peeping  forth  sufficiently  to  trace  a  line  of  delicate  £rreen.  118 
Later  in  the  season  the  humming-birds  were  attracted 
by  the  blossoms  of  a  peculiar  varietj'  of  bean ;  and  they 
A'ere  a  joy  to  me,  those  little  spiritual  visitants,  for  deign- 
ing to  sip  any  food  out  of  my  nectar-cups.  Multitudes 
of  bees  used  to  bury  themselves  in  the  yellow  blossoms  120 
of  the  summer  squashes.  This,  too,  was  a  deep  satisfac- 
tion, although,  when  they  had  laden  themselves  with 
sweets,  they  flew  away  to  some  unknown  hive  which 
would  give  back  nothing  in  requital  of  what  my  garden 
had  contributed.  But  I  was  glad  thus  to  fling  a  bene- 125 
faction  upon  the  passing  breeze,  with  the  certainty  that 
somebody  must  profit  by  it,  and  that  there  would  be  a 
little  more  honey  in  the  world  to  allay  the  sourness  and 
bitterness  which  mankind  is  always  complaining  of  Yes, 
indeed,  my  life  was  the  sweeter  for  that  honey.  130 


Analysis. — 119.  nectar-cups.    What  figure? 
124.  Give  a  synonym  for  requital. 

128,  129.  Point  out  the  figure. 

129.  is  always  complaininc/  of.    Criticise  tlie  closing  of  this  sentenoA. 
129,  130.   I'd,  indeed.    Parwe. 


17.  GEORGE    WILLIAM   CURTIS, 

1824^1892. 

George  William  Curtis,  an  American  journalist,  was 
norn  at  Providence,  Rhode  Island,  February  24,  1824. 
His  early  education  was  received  in  a  private  school  at 
Jamaica  Plain,  Massachusetts.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  he 
became  clerk  in  a  mercantile  house  in  New  York,  and 
in  1842  he  and  his  brother  became  members  of  the 
Brook  Farm  Community,  where  he  remained  a  year 
and  a  half,  dividing  his  time  between  study  and  agri- 
cultural labor.  The  following  year  and  a  half  were  spent 
by  the  two  brothers  in  the  emplo}'  of  a  farmer  at  Con- 
cord, Massachusetts,  after  which  they  spent  six  months 
in  tilling  a  piece  of  ground  on  their  own  account.  The 
next  four  years  (from  1846  to  1850)  Mr.  Curtis  spent  in 
Italy,  Berlin,  Egypt,  and  Syria,  and  on  liis  return  to 
America  he  published  his  first  book,  Nile-Nolcs  of  a 
Hoivndji,  and  soon  thereafter  joined  the  editorial  staff 
of  the  New  York  Tribune.  Since  tliat  time  he  has  been 
a  journalist  continuously.  He  was  one  of  the  original 
editors  of  Putnam''8  Monthly,  which  was  commenced  in 
1852.  Curtis  has  been  a  constant  contributor  to  Harper'' s 
Monthly  Mdcjazine  since  1853,  and  to  Harper''^  Weekly,  of 
which  he  has  been  editor-in-chief  since  1857.  lie  has 
written  also  a  number  of  articles  for  llarper^s  Bazar,  a 
Beries  of  whicli,  entitled  Manners  upon  the  Road,  appeared 
in  weekly  installments  from  1867  to  1873. 

Mr  Curtis's  second  book,  The  Ilowadji  in  Syria,  was 
publibhed  in  1852.     In  1851  he  wrote  a.  series  of  letters 

414 


GEORGE   WILLIAM  CURTIS.  415 

from  the  various  watering-places  to  the  Tribune.  These 
were  afterward  published  in  a  volume  entitled  Lotus- 
Eating.  Some  of  his  magazine  articles  also  were  col- 
lected and  published  in  book-form  under  the  titles  The 
Potiphar  Papers  and  Prue  and  I.  Pie  wrote  also  a  novel 
for  Harper'' s  Weekhj  entitled  Trumps.,  which  afterward  up- 
j)6ared  in  book-form. 

CRITICIS:\r. 

INIr.  Curtis  has  won  an  enviable  reputation,  not  only 
as  a  journalist,  but  also  as  a  lecturer  and  public  speaker, 
and  he  has  been  a  constant  contributor  to  the  literature 
of  the  day  ever  since  he  chose  writing  as  his  profession. 
His  eloquence  as  an  orator  has  made  him  a  favorite  be- 
fore the  societies  in  colleges  and  universities.  He  is 
master  of  an  elegant  style,  characterized  by  clear  and 
forcible  thought,  which  in  his  lectures  is  strengthened 
by  an  attractive  presence  and  a  finely-modulated  voice 
that  never  fail  to  please  a  cultured  audience  and  make 
him  one  of  the  most  polished  and  popular  of  platform- 
orators. 

ASPIRATIONS  OF  YOUTH. 

Day  by  day,  wherever  our  homes  may  be  in  this  great 
land,  we  have  watched  the  passing  pageant  of  tlie  year. 
Day  by  day,  from  the  first  quick  flush  of  April  tiirough 
the  deeper  green  and  richer  bloom  of  May  and  June, 
we  have  seen  the  advancing  season  develo]-)  and  in-i 
crease,  until,  at  last,  among  roses  and  golden  grain,  the 
year  stood  perfect  in  midsummer  splendor.  As  you 
have  contemplated    the    brief   glory    of   our  summer, 


Analysis. — 1.  Day  by  day.     Parse. 
1,  2.  Is  the  sentence  periodic  or  loose? 
3,  7.  Make  tliis  a  loose  sentence. 
8.  Point  out  the  figure. 


416        STZ^DIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

where  tlie  clover  almost  blooms  out  of  snow-drifts,  and 
the  red  apples  drop  almost  with  the  white  blossoms,  10 
you  have  perhaps  remembered  that  the  flower  upon  the 
tree  was  only  the  ornament  of  a  moment — a  brilliant 
part  of  the  process  by  which  the  fruit  was  formed — and 
that  the  perfect  fruit  itself  was  but  the  seed-vessel  by 
which  the  race  of  the  tree  is  continued  from  year  to  15 
year. 

Then  have  you  followed  the  excjuisite  analogy  that 
youth  is  the  aromatic  flower  uj)on  the  tree ;  the  grave 
life  of  maturer  years,  its  8ol)er,  solid  fruit ;  and  the  ])rin- 
ciples  and  character  deposited  by  that  life,  the  seeds  by  20 
which  the  glory  of  this  race  also  is  perpetuated  ? 

I  know  the  flower  in  your  hand  fades  while  3'ou  look 
at  it.  The  dream  that  allures  you  glimmers  and  is  gone. 
But  flower  and  dream,  like  youth  itself,  are  buds  and 
prophecies.  For  where,  without  the  perfumed  blossom-  25 
ing  of  the  spring  orchards  all  over  the  hills  and  among 
all  the  valleys  of  New  England  and  New  York,  would 
the  happy  harvests  of  New  York  and  New  England  be? 
And  where,  without  the  dreams  of  the  young  men  light- 
ing the  future  with  human  possibility,  would  be  the  30 
deeds  of  the  old  men,  dignifying  the  past  with  human 
achievement?  How  deeply  does  it  become  us  to  b.elieve 
this,  who  are  not  only  young  ourselves,  but  living  with 
the  youth  of  the  youngest  nation  in  history  I 


Anata'sis. — 9.  Criticise  the  posi'ion  of  almosL 

12.  What  fip^iire  in  the  line? 

IX.  With  what  \h  pari  iu  apposition? 

18,  19.  Whatfi-riires? 

20.  In  what  ca.se  i.s  seed  at 

23-25.  What  fiijrnre.M? 

31.  Name  the  modifiers  of  deeds. 

32.  Name  the  modifiers  of  U  and  ua. 
34.  i'liint  out  tlie  fitfure. 


GEORGE  WILLIAM  CURTIS.  417 

I  congratulate  you  that  you  are  young ;  I  congratulate  35 
you  that  you  are  Americans.  Like  you,  that  country  is 
in  its  flower,  not  yet  in  its  fruit ;  and  that  flower  is  sub- 
ject to  a  thousand  chances  before  the  fruit  is  set.  Worms 
may  destroy  it;  frosts  may  wither  it;  fires  may  blight 
it ;  gusts  may  whirl  it  away.  But  how  gorgeously  it  still  40 
liangs  blossoming  in  the  garden  of  time,  while  its  pene- 
trating perfume  floats  all  round  the  world  and  intoxi- 
cates all  other  nations  witli  the  hope  of  liberty  I 

Knowing  that  the  life  of  every  nation,  as  of  each  in- 
dividual, is  a  battle,  let  us  remember,  also,  that  the  45 
battle  is  to  those  who  fight  with  faith  and  undespairing 
devotion.  Knowing  that  nothing  is  worth  fighting  for 
at  all  unless  God  reigns,  let  us  at  least  believe  as  much 
in  the  goodness  of  God  as  we  do  in  the  dexterity  of  the 
devil.  And,  viewing  this  prodigious  spectacle  of  our  50 
country — this  hope  of  humanity,  this  Young  America, 
our  America — taking  the  sun  full  in  its  front,  and  mak- 
ing for  the  future  as  boldly  and  blithely  as  the  young 
David  for  Goliath,  let  us  believe  with  all  our  liearts ; 
and  from  that  faith  shall  spring  the  fact  that  David,  55 
and  not  Goliath,  is  to  win  the  day,  and  that  out  of  the 
high-hearted  dreams  of  wise  and  good  men  about  our 
country,  Time,  however  invisibly  and  inscrutably,  is, 
at  this  moment,  slowly  hewing  the  most  colossal  and 
resplendent  result  in  history.  60 


Analysis. — 36-43.  What  extended  figure? 
44.  Knowing,  etc.     Wliat  does  it  modify  ? 
44,45.  What  figure? 

46.  b(Mle  is,  etc.     Exphmi. 

47.  fighting  for.     Parse. 

48.  Pajne  at  all. 

68.  Point  out  the  figure  in  this  lin«. 

ST 


18.  N.    P.  WILLIS, 

1806-1867. 

NathAiNIel  Parker  Willis,  an  American  journalial 
and  poet,  born  in  Portland,  Maine,  January  20,  1806, 
died  at  Idlewild,  bis  residence,  near  Newburg,  New 
York,  on  the  21st  of  January,  18G7. 

He  was  educated  at  Yale,  and  while  still  in  college 
published,  over  the  signature  of  "  Roy,"  a  number  of 
scriptural  and  other  poems.  lie  graduated  in  1827, 
and  was  immediately  employed  by  Samuel  Q.  Goodrich 
("  Peter  Parley  ")  to  edit  the  Legendary  and  the  Token. 
A  year  later  he  established  the  American  Monthly  Maga- 
zine, which  at  the  end  of  two  years  was  merged  in  the 
New  York  Mirror,  a  journal  previously  established  by 
George  P.  Morris,  of  which  Willis  tlien  became  associate 
editof. 

Soon  after  this  Willis  visited  Europe,  and  while  there 
wrote  a  series  of  sketches  for  the  Mirror  entitled  Pencllinga 
by  the  Way,  which  were  afterward  published  in  three 
volumes.  He  then  became  an  attache  of  the  Ameri- 
can minister  at  Paris,  Mr.  Rives,  atul  having  traveled 
tlirough  Europe  and  througli  Turkey  and  some  otlier 
piirts  of  Asia,  he  returned  to  England,  where  he  mar- 
ried the  daughter  of  General  Stace,  the  commandant  at 
the  Woolwich  Arsenal. 

In  1837  he  returned  to  tlie  United  States,  and  lived 

for  two  years  at  Glenmary,  near  Owego,  New  York.     He 

then  became  editor  of  the  Corsair,  which  proved  to  be  a 

eliort-lived   literary  gazette.      He   visited   P]ngland  the 

lit 


N.   P.    WILLTii.  419 

Bame  year  On  returning  to  New  York  he  anrl  George 
P.  Morris  established  a  daily  newspaper,  the  Evening 
Mhror,  but  the  death  of  Willis's  wife  and  his  own 
failing  health  led  him  to  make  another  visit  to  Europe. 
On  his  return,  in  1846,  he  married  again  and  located 
near  Newburg,  naming  his  residence  Idlewild.  In  this 
same  year  he  and  George  P.  Morris  established  the 
Home  Journal,  a  weekly  paper,  to  which  he  was  a  con- 
tributor until  the  time  of  his  death. 

Of  Willis's  poems,  The  Death  of  Absalom,  Hagar  in  the 
Wilderness,  Jephthali's  Daughter,  The  Daughter  of  Jairus, 
and  The  Belfry  Pigeon  are  among  the  best.  His  Letters 
from  Under  a  Bridge,  Peo'ple  I  have  Met,  Life  Here  and 
There,  Famous  Persons  and  Places,  and  A  Health- Trip  to 
ike  Tropics  are  the  most  highly  esteemed  of  this  versatile 
and  graceful  author's  prose  productions. 

CKITICISM   BY   EVART   A.   DUYCKINCK. 

The  contributions  of  Mr.  Willis  to  the  various  periodi- 
cals are  severally  characterized  by  tlieir  acute  perception 
of  affairs  of  life  and  the  world ;  a  delicate  vein  of  senti- 
ment, an  increased  ingenuity  in  the  decoration  and  im- 
provement of  matters  which  in  the  hands  of  most  writers 
would  be  impertinent  and  wearisome ;  in  fine,  in  their 
invention,  wliich  makes  new  things  out  of  old,  whether 
among  the  palled  commonplaces  of  the  city  or  the  scant 

monotony  of  the  country The  poetry  of  Mr. 

Willis  is  musical  and  original.  His  sacred  poems  belong 
to  a  class  of  compositions  which  critics  might  object  to, 
did  not  experience  show  them  to  be  pleasurable  and 
profitable  interpreters  to  many  minds.  The  versifica- 
tion of  these  poems  is  of  remarkable  smoothness.  In- 
deed, they  have  gained  the  author  reputation  where  his 
nicer  powers  would  have  failed  to  be  ap])reciated. 


420        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURK 

THE  BELFRY  PIGEON. 

On  the  cross-beam  under  the  Old  South  bell 

The  nest  of  a  pigeon  is  builded  well. 

In  au,mmer  and  winter  that  bird  is  there, 

Out  and  in  with  the  morning  air. 

I  love  to  see  him  track  the  street,  f* 

With  his  wary  eye  and  active  feet; 

And  I  often  watch  him  as  he  springs, 

Circling  the  steeple  with  easy  wings, 

Till  across  the  dial  his  shade  has  passed. 

And  the  belfry  edge  is  gained  at  last.  10 

'Tis  a  bird  I  love,  with  its  brooding  note, 

And  the  trembling  throb  in  its  mottled  throat.* 

There's  a  human  look  in  its  swelling  breast, 

And  the  gentle  curve  of  its  lowly  crest ; 

And  I  often  stop  with  the  fear  I  feel,  16 

He  runs  so  close  to  the  rapid  wheel. 

Whatever  is  rung  on  that  noisy  bell — 
Chime  of  the  hour,  or  funeral  knell — 
The  dove  in  the  belfry  must  hear  it  well. 
When  the  tongue  swings  out  to  the  midnight  moon,       20 
When  the  sexton  cheerily  rings  for  noon. 
When  the  clock  strikes  clear  at  morning  light, 
When  the  child  is  waked  with  "  nine  at  night," 
When  the  chimes  play  soft  in  the  Sabbath  air, 
Filling  the  spirit  with  tones  of  prayer, —  25 

Whatever  tale  in  the  bell  is  heard. 
He  broods  on  his  folded  feet  unstirred. 
Or,  rising  half  iu  his  rounded  nest, 
He  takes  the  time  to  smooth  his  breast. 

Analysis. — 1.  To  what  does  Old  South  refer  ? 

4.   Dispfise  of  out  and  in. 

9l    Why  shade  ioHlead  of  shadow  f 
11,  12.  Analyze  tlie«e  lines. 
1-16.  Name  the  figures. 
17-19.  Analyze  the  sentence. 

17-31.  What   is   the   principal   clause?      Name    ihe    modifjing 
clauscH.     What  fin'Tcs  in  these  linea? 


N.  P.    WILLIS.  421 

Then  drops  again,  with  filmM  eyes,  30 

And  sleeps  as  the  last  vibration  dies. 

Sweet  bird  !  I  would  that  I  could  be 
A  hermit  in  the  crowd  like  thee! 
With  wings  to  fly  to  wood  and  glen, 

Thy  lot,  like  mine,  is  cast  witli  men  ;  S5 

And  daily,  with  unwilling  feet, 
I  tread,  like  tliee,  the  crowded  street; 
But,  unlike  me,  when  day  is  o'er. 
Thou  canst  dismiss  the  world  and  soar. 
Or,  at  a  half- felt  wish  for  rest,  M 

Canst  smooth  the  feathers  on  thy  breast. 
And  drop,  forgetful,  to  thy  nest. 

I  would  that  in  such  wings  of  gold 
I  could  my  weary  heart  upfold ; 

I  would  I  could  look  down  unmoved  4C 

(Unloving  as  I  am  unloved). 
And  while  the  world  throngs  on  beneath, 
Smooth  down  my  cares  and  calmly  breathe ; 
And,  never  sad  with  others'  sadness. 
And  never  glad  with  others'  gladness,  SO 

Listen,  unstirred,  to  knell  or  chime. 
And,  lapped  in  quiet,  bide  my  time. 


Analysis. — 30.  Wliy/i/jn^/  instead  of  filmed  f 

32,  33.  Explain  the  lines. 

32-42.  Name  the  figures  in  these  lines. 

35.  Dispose  of  like  and  itiine. 

38,  39.  unlike  me.     What  does  the  phrase  modify? 

42  What  does  forgetful  modify? 

43  Name  the  object  of  would. 

43-52.  Point  out  the  figures  in  these  lines. 

45  What  does  unmnred  modify  ? 

46  Explain  the  line. 

47.  Parse  the  word  beneath. 

48.  Give  the  mode  of  s7iwoth. 

49.  50.  Dispose  of  sad  and  ylnd. 

52.  Utpped  in  quiet.     What  does  the  phrase  modify?      Ui?e   tl:« 
mode  of  bile. 


19.   BAYARD   TAYLOR, 

1825-1878. 

Bayard  Taylor,  a  prominent  American  novelist, 
poet,  and  traveler,  was  born  in  the  village  of  Kennett 
Square,  Chester  county,  Pennsylvania,  on  the  11th  of 
January,  1825,  At  the  age  of  seventeen,  having  re- 
ceived a  limited  education,  he  became  an  apprentice 
in  a  printing-office  in  West  Chester.  While  learning 
his  trade  he  spent  his  leisure  time  in  studying  Latin 
and  French  and  in  writing  verses.  These  latter  he  col- 
lected and  published  in  1844  under  the  title  Ximena, 
with  the  hope  of  making  a  reputation  for  himself  wliich 
would  secure  him  employment  as  a  contributor  to  some 
leading  newspapers  while  he  made  a  tour  of  Europe  on 
foot.  He  was  successful  in  liis  project,  as  the  editors  of 
The  United  States  Gazette  and  The  Saturday  Evening  Post 
advanced  him  one  hundred  dollars.  In  addition  to  this 
he  received  forty  dollars  for  some  verses  which  he  con- 
tributed to  Grahavi's  Magazine,  and  with  this  amount  he 
undertook  the  journey. 

Taylor's  first  book.  Views  Afoot,  which  appeared  in 
184G,  is,  in  tlie  main,  a  description  of  his  European 
journey.  After  his  return  to  America  he  edited  a  paper 
for  a  year  at  Phoenixville,  Pennsylvania,  and  then  went 
tc  New  York,  where  he  wrote  for  the  Literary  World,  and 
in  1848  joined  tlie  editorial  stafl"  of  the  New  York  Tri- 
bune, soon  thereafter  becoming  part  owner  of  that  jour- 
nal. Taylor's  literary  labors  were  thereafter  confined 
mainly  to  the   Tribune,  and  many  of  his  volumes  on 

422 


BAYARD  TAYLOR.  423 

travel  first  appeared  as  contributions  to  the  columns  ol 
that  paper. 

In  1849  he  visited  California,  and  returned  by  way  of 
Mexico,  the  literary  result  of  his  visit  being  the  volume 
El  Dirado;  or,  Adventures  in  the  Path  of  Empire.  In  1851 
he  set  out  on  an  extended  tour  of  the  East,  and  the  same 
year  he  published  a  third  volume  of  poems,  his  second 
being  Rhymes  of  Travel,  published  in  1848.  As  the  re- 
sult of  Taylor's  second  trip  abroad,  in  which  he  traveled 
fifty  thousand  miles  in  less  than  two  years  and  a  half, 
we  have  A  Journey  to  Central  Africa,  Tfie  Lands  of  the 
Saracen,  A  Visit  to  India,  China,  and  Japan;  Northern 
Travels ;  or.  Summer  and  Winter  Pictures  of  Sweden,  Den- 
mark, and  Lapland ;  Travels  in  Greece  and  Russia,  and  At 
Home  and  Abroad. 

In  1874,  Ta3dor  revisited  Egypt,  and  also  attended  the 
millennial  celebration  of  Iceland.  He  also  published  a 
volume  this  same  year  entitled  Egypt  and  Iceland.  Be- 
sides the  books  named,  he  has  written  Byivays  of  Europe 
and  a  numl)er  of  other  works. 

Among  Taylor's  principal  poems  are  Poems  of  the  Orient, 
Poems  of  Home  and  Travel,  Picture  of  St.  John,  The  Masque 
of  the  Gods;  Lars,  a  Pastoral  of  Norway ;  Home  Pastorals, 
and  others.  He  wrote  also  several  novels :  Hannah 
Thurston,  John  Godfrey''s  Fortunes,  The  Story  of  Kennett 
and  Joseph  and  His  Friend. 

In  addition  to  all  this  labor  he  translated  a  number 
of  works  from  the  German,  the  principal  being  Goethe's 
Faust,  and  also  wrote  several  works  of  an  historical  clia- 
racter,  Some  of  his  books  have  been  translated  into 
German,  French,  and  Russian. 

Taylor  married  a  German  lady,  and  in  Fel)ruary,  1878, 
he  was  appointed  minister-plenipotentiary  to  Germany. 
He  died  at  Berlin  on  the  19th  of  December  of  the  same 
year. 


42-1  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

CRITICISM. 

Taylor's  greatest  success  as  an  autlior  is  to  be  found 
ir  his  books  of  travel.  The  reading  pul)lic  owe  much 
to  him,  not  only  for  the  interesting  facts  which  he  has 
recorded  as  the  results  of  his  observation,  but  also  for 
the  clear  and  captivating  style  which  he  employs  in  his 
narrative,  lie  had  the  happy  faculty  of  discriminating 
between  the  unimportant  and  uninteresting  personal 
details  which  are  to  be  found  as  incidents  of  travel; 
and  the  knowledge  of  men  and  countries  which  is  eager 
ly  sought  for  by  the  reader  in  search  of  information.  Hf 
met  with  great  success  in  his  admiral)le  translation  of 
Faust,  ])ut  he  will  be  remembered  kindly  also  for  the 
glow  of  warmth  and  beauty  of  coloring  in  his  original 
poems,  particularly  his  Poems  of  the  Orient. 

KILIMAND.JARO. 

[For  stiuly  arid  analysis.^ 

Hail  to  thee,  monarch  of  ^Vrican  mountains, 

Remote,  inaccessible,  silent,  and  lone — 

Who,  from  the  heart  of  the  tropical  fervors, 

Liftest  to  heaven  thine  alien  snowa. 

Feeding  for  ever  the  fountains  that  make  tliee  5 

Father  of  Nile  and  Creator  of  Egypt  I 

The  years  of  the  world  are  engraved  on  thy  forehead; 

Time's  morning  blushed  red  on  thy  first  fallen  snows; 

Yet  lost  in  the  wilderness,  nameless,  unnoted, 

Of  man  unbeholden,  thou  wcrt  not  till  now.  10 

Knowledge  alone  is  the  being  of  Nature, 

Giving  a  soul  to  lier  manifold  features, 

Lighting  through  paths  of  the  primitive  darkness 

The  footsteps  of  Truth  and  the  vision  of  Song. 

Knowledge  hiis  born  thoe  anew  to  Creation,  II 

And  long-bafllcd  Time  at  thy  baptism  rejoices. 


BAYARD  TAYLOR  425 

Take  then,  a  name,  and  be  filled  with  existence, 

Yea,  be  exultant  in  sovereign  glory, 

WTiile  from  the  hand  of  the  wandering  poet 

Drops  the  first  garland  of  song  at  thy  feet.  20 

Floating  alone,  on  the  flood  of  thy  making, 

Through  Africa's  mystery,  silence,  and  fire, 

Lol  in  my  palm,  like  the  Eastern  enchanter, 

I  dip  from  the  waters  a  magical  mirror. 

And  thou  art  revealed  to  my  purified  vision.  25 

I  see  thee,  supreme  in  the  midst  of  thy  co-mates, 

Standing  alone  'twixt  the  Earth  and  the  Heavens, 

Heir  of  the  sunset  and  Herald  of  Morn. 

Zone  above  zone,  to  thy  shoulders  of  granite. 

The  climates  of  Earth  are  displayed  as  an  index,  30 

Giving  the  scope  of  the  Book  of  Creation. 

There,  in  the  gorges  that  widen,  descending 

From  cloud  and  from  cold  into  summer  eternal. 

Gather  the  threads  of  the  ice-gendered  fountains — 

Gather  to  riotous  torrents  of  crystal,  85 

And,  giving  each  shelvy  recess  where  they  dally 

The  blooms  of  the  North  and  its  evergreen  turfage, 

Leap  to  the  land  of  the  lion  and  lotus  1 

There,  in  the  wondering  airs  of  tlie  Tropics 

Shivers  the  Aspen,  still  dreaming  of  cold :  40 

There  stretches  the  Oak,  from  the  loftiest  ledges, 

His  arms  to  the  far-away  land  of  his  brothers. 

And  the  Pine  tree  looks  down  on  his  rival,  tlie  Palm. 

Bathed  in  tlie  tenderest  purple  of  distance. 

Tinted  and  shadowed  by  pencils  of  air,  45 

Thy  battlements  hang  o'er  the  slo{)es  and  the  forests, 

Seats  of  the  Gods  in  the  limitless  ether. 

Looming  sublimely  aloft  and  afar 

Above  tiiem,  like  folds  of  impori;d  ermine, 

Sparkle  the  snow-fields  that  furrow  thy  forehead —  50 

Desolate  realms,  inaccessible,  silent. 

Chasms  and  caverns  where  Day  is  a  stranger, 

Garners  where  storeth  his  treasures  the  Thunder, 

The  Lightning  his  falchion,  his  arrows  the  Haill 


42fi        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Sovereign  Mountain,  thy  brothers  give  welcome :  W 

They,  the  baptized  and  crownSd  of  ages. 

Watch-towers  of  Continents,  altars  of  Earth, 

Welcome  thee  now  to  their  mighty  assembly. 

Mont  Blanc,  in  the  roar  of  his  mad  avalanches, 

Hails  thy  accession  ;  su})erb  Orizaba,  90 

Belted  with  beech,  and  ensandaled  with  palm ; 

Chimborazo,  the  lord  of  the  regions  of  noonday; 

Mingle  their  sounds  in  magnificent  chorus 

With  greeting  august  from  the  Pillars  of  Heaven 

Who,  in  the  urns  of  the  Indian  Ganges,  65 

Filter  the  snows  of  their  sacred  dominions, 

Unmarked  with  a  footprint,  unseen  but  of  Grod. 

Lo,  unto  each  is  the  seal  of  his  lordship, 

Kor  questioned  tlie  right  that  liis  majesty  giveth: 

Each  in  his  awful  supremacy  forces  70 

Worship  and  reverence,  wonder  and  joy. 

Absolute  all,  yet  in  dignity  varied, 

Kone  has  a  claim  to  the  honors  of  story, 

Or  the  superior  splendors  of  song, 

Greater  than  thou,  in  thy  mysterj'  mantled —  71 

Thou,  the  sole  monarch  of  African  mountaina, 

Father  of  Nile  and  Creator  of  Egypt  I 


20    DR.  J.  G.  HOLLAND, 

1819-1881. 

Dr.  Josiah  Gilbert  Holland,  one  of  America's  most 
()opular  writers,  was  born  at  Belchertown,  Massachusetts, 
July  24,  1819.  Having  studied  medicine,  he  practiced 
his  profession  for  several  years,  and  then  abandoned  it. 
After  having  edited  a  literary  journal  in  Springfield, 
Massachusetts,  for  a  short  time,  he  spent  one  year  as 
superintendent  of  the  public  schools  of  Vicksburg, 
Mississippi.  He  then  became  associate  editor  of  the 
Springfield  Rqmblican  in  1849.  Two  years  later  lie  be- 
came also  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  paper,  and 
retained  connection  with  it  up  to  1866.  Four  years 
after  this  he  became  conductor  of  Scribner^s  Monthly 
(now  the  Century),  a  position  which  he  retained  to  the 
time  of  his  death,  October  12,  1881. 

Dr.  Holland  wrote  several  of  his  first  books  undei 
the  assumed  name  "  Timothy  Titcomb."  These  were 
Letters  to  the  Young,  Gold  Foil,  Lessons  in  Life,  and  Letters 
to  the  Joneses.  His  other  prose  works  include  History  of 
Western  3Iassachusctts,  Plain  Talks  on  Familiar  Subjects,  and 
Beveral  novels:  The  Bay-PatJi,  Miss  Gilbert'' s  Career,  and 
Arthur  Bonnicastle.  He  also  wrote  a  Life  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  and  a  volume  of  lectures.  His  chief  poems  are 
Bitter-Sweet,  Kathrina,  and  a  volume  issued  in  1872  en- 
titled Marble  Prophecy,  and  Other  PocTns. 

Dr.  Holland  was  for  a  number  of  years  a  popular 
public  lecturer,  choosing  for  his  themes  topics  generally 
of  a  social  or  a  literary  chaiacter. 

427 


428        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

CRITICISM   BY  REV.  DR.  NOAH  PORTER. 

The  art  of  saying  plain  and  much-needed  truth  in 
Buch  a  manner  as  to  hold  the  attention  and  interest  the 
feelings,  of  relieving  the  commonplace  from  dullness, 
and  yet  leaving  it  perfectly  simple, — this  art  is  the  ad- 
miration, if  not  the  envy,  of  those  who  do  not  possess 
it.  This  art  Dr.  Holland  had  in  an  eminent  degree, 
and  he  used  it  with  a  most  useful  effect.  He  was  not 
ashamed  to  seem  commonplace:  his  critics  mi^ht  say 
that  he  could  not  be  anything  else.  His  aim  wns  to  be 
useful,  and  in  order  to  be  useful  he  must  be  effective; 
and  to  this  end  he  certainly  made  abundant  use  of  the 
tiine-bonored  maxim,  "  Look  into  thy  heart  and  write." 
It  lias  been  a  great  blessing  to  the  generation  which  he 
has  served  so  variously  and  so  well  from  1868  to  1881 
that  he  had  so  generous  and  pure  a  heart  into  which 
he  might  look,  that  he  had  the  courage  to  express  what 
he  found  there,  and  that  he  also  possessed  the  gift  of  ex- 
pressing what  he  found  in  a  diction  so  facile  and  so  clear, 
and  with  illustrations  and  enforcements  that  were  so 
attractive. 

THE   READIXa   OF    PERIODICALS. 

[For  atiuly  and  analysis.'] 

Note. — The  following  selection,  taken  from  Holland's  Every-Da^ 
Topics,  illustrates  the  style  of  this  writer. 

Ir  is  lamented  by  many  that  the  reading  of  periodi- 
cals has  become  not  only  universal,  but  that  it  absorbs 
all  the  time  of  those  who  read  tliem.  It  is  supposed 
that  in  consequence  of  these  two  facts  the  quiet  and 
thorough  study  of  well-written  books — books  which  5 
deal  with  their  subjects  systematically  and  exliaustive- 
ly — bag  been  forsaken.     As  a  consequence  of  this  fact, 


DR.  J.  Q  HOLLAND.  429 

it  is  further  supposed  that  renders  only  get  a  superficial 
and  desultory  knowledge  of  the  things  they  study,  and 
that,  although  their  knowledge  covers  many  fields,  they  10 
become  nothing  better  than  smatterers  in  any. 

AVe  think  these  conclusions  are  hardly  sustained  by 
tlie  large  array  of  facts  relating  to  them.  We  doubt 
u  hether  the  market  for  good  books  was  ever  any  better 
than  it  is  now.  We  have  no  statistics  on  the  subject,  15 
but  our  impression  is  that,  through  the  universal  ditfu- 
sion  of  periodical  literature,  and  the  knowledge  of  books 
conveyed  and  advertised  by  it,  the  book-trade  has  been 
rather  helped  than  harmed.  It  has  multiplied  readers, 
and  excited  curiosity  and  interest  touching  all  literature.  20 
There  are  hundreds  of  good  books  which  would  never 
reach  the  world  but  for  the  introduction  and  commen- 
dation of  the  periodical ;  and  books  are  purchased  now 
more  intelligently  than  they  ever  were  before.  The  li- 
brarians will  tell  us,  too,  that  they  find  no  falling  off  in  25 
their  labors;  and  we  doubt  whether  our  scholars  would 
be  willing  to  confess  that  they  are  less  studious  than 
formerly.  Science  was  never  more  active  in  its  inves- 
tigations than  now ;  discovery  was  never  pushed  more 
efficiently  and  enthusiastically ;  and  thought  and  specu-  30 
lation  were  never  more  busy  concerning  all  the  great 
Bubjects  that  affect  the  race. 

No,  the  facts  do  not  sustain  the  conclusions  of  those 
who  decry  the  periodical ;  and  when  we  consider  how 
legitimately  and  necessarily  it  has  grown  out  of  the  35 
changes  which  progress  has  introduced,  we  shall  con- 
dude  that  they  cannot  do  so.  The  daily  newspaper,  in 
its  present  splendid  estate,  is  a  child  of  the  telegraph 
and  the  rail-car.  As  soon  as  it  became  possible  for  a 
man  to  sit  at  his  breakfast-table  and  read  of  all  the  im-  40 
portant  events  which  took  place  in  the  whole  world  the 
day  before,  a  want  was  born  which  only  the  daily  paper 


430        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

could  supply.    If  a  man  absorbed  in  business,  and  prac- 
tical afliiirs  has  time  only  to  read  the  intelligence  thus 
furnished,  and  the  comments  upon  it  and  the  discus-  45 
eions  growing  out  of  it,  of  course  his   reading  stops 
there ;  but  what  an  incalculable  advantage  in  his  busi- 
ness affairs  has  this  hasty  survey  given  him  I     If  he  has 
more  time  than  this,  and  has  a  love  of  science,  the  pe- 
riodical brings  to  him  every  week  or  month  the  latest  50 
investigations  aud  their  results,  and  enables  him  to  keep 
pace  with  his  time.    If  the  work  of  the  various  active 
scientists  of  the  day  were  only  embodied  in  elaborate 
books,  he  could  never  see  and  could  never  read  one  of 
them.      In  the  periodical  all  the  scientific  men  of  the  55 
world  meet.     They  learn  there  just  what  each  man  is 
doing,  and  are  constant  inspirers  and  correctors  of  each 
other,  while  all  the  interested  world  studies  tliem  and 
keeps  even-headed  with  them.     A  ten-days'  run   from 
Liverpool  brings  to  this  country  an  installment  of  the  GO 
scientific  labor  of  all  Europe,  and  there  is  no  possible 
form  in  which  this  can  be  gathered  up  and  scattered 
except  that  of  the  periodical.      In   truth,    we   do   not 
know  of  any  class  of  men  who  would  be  more  disas- 
trously affected  by  a  suspension  of  periodical  literature  65 
than  those  who  have  particularly  decried  it — the  scholars 
and  the  scientists. 

Within  the  last  twenty  years  not  onl}'  liave  the  means 
of  communication  been  incalculably  increased,  but  the 
domain  of  knowledge  has  been  very  greatly  enlarged;  0 
I  nd  the  fact  is  patent  that  periodical  literature  has  been 
developed  in  the  same  pro])ortion.  It  has  grown  out  of 
the  ne\v  necessities,  and  must  ultimately  arrange  itself 
by  certain  laws.  At  present  it  is  in  a  degree  of  i,c«nfu- 
sion;  but  at  last  tJie  daily  paper  will  announce  facts; 76 
the  scientific  journal  will  descriljc  discoveries  and  j)ro- 
cesses ;  the  weekly  paper  will  be  the  mediuni  of  popular 


DR.  J.  O.  HOLLAND.  43! 

discussion ;  the  magazine  and  review  will  fiiniish  thi 
theatre  of  the  thinker  and  the  literary  artist ;  and  thi 
book,  sifting  all — facts,  processes,  thoughts,  and  artistic  jO 
fabrics  and  crystallizations  of  thought — will  record  all 
that  is  worthy  of  preservation  to  enter  permanently  into 
the  life  and  literature  of  the  world.   This  is  the  tendency 
at  the  present  time,  although  the  aim  may  not  be  intel- 
ligent and  definite  or  the  end  clearly  seen.     Each  class  85 
of  periodicals  has  its  ofiice  in  evolving  from  the  crude 
facts  of  the  every-day  history  of  politics,  religion,  morals, 
society,  and  science  tliose  philosophic  conclusions  and 
artistic  creations  that  make  up  the  solid  literature  of 
the  country;  and  this  ollice  will  be  better  defined  as  the  90 
years  go  by. 

We  do  not  se.e  that  it  is  anything  against  the  maga- 
zine that  it  has  become  the  medium  by  which  books  of 
an  ephemeral  nature  find  their  way  to  the  public.  The 
novel,  almost  universally,  makes  its  first  appearance  as  95 
a  serial.  MacDonald,  Collins,  Reade,  George  Eliot,  Mrs. 
Stowe,  Mrs.  Whitney,  Trollope — in  fact,  all  the  principal 
novelists — send  their  productions  to  the  public  through 
the  magazines ;  and  it  is  certainly  better  to  distribute 
the  interest  of  these  through  the  year  than  to  devour  IOC 
them  en  masse.  They  come  to  the  public  in  this  way  in 
their  cheapest  form,  and  find  ten  readers  where  in  the 
book-form  tliey  would  find  one.  They  are  read,  too,  as 
serials,  mingled  with  a  wider  and  more  valuable  range 
of  literature,  as  they  always  should  be  read.  Anything  105 
is  good  which  prevents  literary  condiments  from  being 
adopted  as  literary  food. 

If  the  fact  still  remains  that  there  are  multitudes  who 
will  read  absolutely  nothing  but  periodical  literature, 
where  is  the  harm?     This  is  a  busy  world,  and  the  1  JO 
great  multitude  cannot  purchase  large  libraries.     'IVn 
or  (iftoen  dollars'  worth  of  periodicals  places  every  work- 


432       STUDIES  m  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

ing  family  in  direct  relations  with  the  great  sources  of 
current  intelligence  and  thought,  and  illuminates  tlieir 
home-life  as  no  other  such  expenditure  can  do.     Tlie  115 
masses  have  neither  the  money  to  buy  books  nor  the 
leisure  to  read  thera.     The  periodical  becomes,  then, 
the  democratic  form  of  literature.     It  is  tlie  intellectual 
food  of  the  people.     It  stand?  in  the  very  front  rank  of 
the  agents  of  civilization,  and  ia  its  way,  directly  and  120 
indirectly,  is  training  up  a  gereration  of  book-readers. 
It  is  the  pioneer:   the  book  will  come  later.     In  the 
mean  time,  it  becomes  all  those  who  provide  periodicals 
for  the  people  to  take  note  of  the  fact  that  their  work 
has  been  proved  to  be  a  good  one  by  the  growing  de-  1U5 
mand  for  a  higher  style  of  excellence  in  the  materials 
they  furnish.     The  day  of  trash  and  padding  is  past  or 
rapidly  passing.     The  popular  magazine  of  to-day  is 
Buch  a  magazine  as  the  world  never  saw  before,   and 
the  popular  magazine  of  America  is  demonstrably  better  130 
than  any  popular  magazine  in  the  world.     We  are  nat- 
urally more  familiar  with  this  class  of  periodical  litera- 
ture than  any  other,  and  we  make  the  statement  without 
qualification  or  reservation.     That  it  is  truly  educating 
its  readers  is  proved  by  the  constant  demand  for  its  own  136 
improvement 


21.  DONALD   0.  MITCHELL, 

1822 . 

Donald  Grant  Mitchell,  a  po])ular  American  author, 
was  born  in  Norwich,  Connecticut,  in  1822.  After  having 
graduated  at  Yale  College  in  1841,  he  traveled  in  Europe 
for  some  time,  and  then  studied  law  in  New  York.  In 
1847  he  began  his  literary  career  by  puljlishing  Fresh 
Gleanings;  or,  A  Neio  S/iaiffrnm  the  Old  Fields  of  Continental 
Europe,  which  appeared  under  the  author's  pseudonym, 
"  Ik  Marvel."  While  visiting  Europe  in  1848,  he  wrote 
The  Battle  Sumv^er,  which  appeared  the  next  year.  In 
the  following  year  (1850)  he  issued  anonymoush'  TJie 
Lorgnette,  a  satirical  work.  Tlie  Reveries  of  a  Bachelor,  by 
Ik  Marvel,  one  of  Mitchell's  best  works,  appeared  also  in 
1850,  and  in  1851  his  Dream-Life  followed. 

In  1850,  Mitchell  became  United  States  consul  at 
Venice,  but  in  1855  he  returned  to  this  countjy,  and 
located  on  a  farm  near  New  Haven,  which  he  named 
Edgewood,  and  which  has  been  his  residence  ever  since. 
Hearth  and  Home,  a  New  York  weekly,  was  established 
in  18G9,  and  for  several  years  thereafter  ^litcliell  was 
QT  e  of  its  editors.  He  has  won  a  reputation  also  as  a 
)  ablic  lecturer. 

Mitchell's  works,  in  addition  to  those  before  named, 
are — Fudge  Doings,  My  Farm  at  Edgewood,  Wet  Days  at 
Edgewood,  Seven  Stories,  ^vith  Basement  and  Attic;  Doctor 
Johns,  Rural  Studies,  and  Pictures  at  Edgexvood. 

2a  433 


•134       STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

CRITICISM. 

The  chief  characteristic  of  Mr.  Mitchell's  style  ifc 
grace.  His  pictures  of  life  in  The  Reveries  of  a  Bachelor 
are  extremely  captivating  and  romantic.  All  through 
his  writings  there  is  a  truthfulness  to  Natuie  which 
makes  one  feel  that  the  author  must  have  known  some- 
thing of  the  reader's  own  life.  As  an  observer  he  is 
attentive  and  discriminating;  as  an  adviser,  kind  and 
hopeful ;  and  as  a  writer,  natural  and  graceful.  His 
books  are  characterized  by  a  healthy  sentiment  and  a 
delicacy  of  humor  which  pervade  all  of  them,  and  make 
them  not  only  instructive,  but  also  intensely  interesting. 
Mitchell's  beauty,  grace,  and  naturalness  of  style  give 
him  claim  to  being  one  of  the  most  delightful  writers  of 
the  National  Period  of  our  literature. 


FIRST  AMBITION. 

[For  study  and  analysis."] 

Note. — The  following  extract  Ls  taken  from  Milchell's  Dream- 
Life. 

I  BETJEVE  that  sooner  or  later  there  come  to  every 
man  dreams  of  ambition.  They  may  be  covered  with 
the  sloth  of  habit  or  with  a  pretence  of  humility;  they 
may  come  only  in  dim,  shadowy  visions  tliat  feed  tlie 
eye  like  the  glories  of  an  ocean  sunrise;  but  you  may  5 
be  sure  that  they  will  come:  even  before  one  is  aware 
the  bold,  adventurous  goddess  whose  name  is  Ambition, 
and  whose  dower  is  Fame,  will  be  toying  with  the  feeble 
heart.  And  she  ])ushes  her  ventures  with  a  bold  hand; 
she  makes  timidity  strong  and  weakness  valiant.  ,C 

The  way  of  a  man's  heart  will  be  foreshadowed  by 
what  goodness  lies  in  him,  coming  from  above  and  from 


LONALD   G.  MITCHELL.  435 

around;  but  a  way  foreshadowed  is  not  a  way  made. 
And  the  making  of  a  man's  way  comes  only  from  that 
quickening  of  resolve  which  we  call  Ambition.  It  is  15 
the  spur  that  makes  man  struggle  with  Destiny ;  it  is 
Heaven's  own  incentive  to  make  Purpose  great  and 
Achievement  greater. 

It  would  be  strange  if  you,  in  that  cloister-life  of  a 
college,  did  not  sometimes  feel  a  dawning  of  new  re-  20 
solves.     They  grapple  you,  indeed,  oftener  than  you 
dare  to  speak  of     Plere  you  dream  first  of  that  very 
sweet  but  very  shadowy  success  called  re2:)Utation. 

You  think  of  tiie  delight  and  astonishment  it  would 
give  your  mother  and  father,  and,  most  of  all,  little  25 
Nelly,  if  you  were  winning  such  honors  as  now  escape 
you.  You  measure  your  capacities  by  those  about  you, 
and  watch  their  habit  of  study ;  you  gaze  for  a  half  hour 
together  upon  some  successful  man  who  has  won  his 
priz(^s,  and  wonder  by  what  secret  action  he  has  done  it.  30 
And  when,  in  time,  you  come  to  be  a  competitor  your- 
self, your  anxiety  is  immense. 

You  spend  hours  upon  hours  at  your  theme.  You 
write  and  rewrite,  and  when  it  is  at  length  comjilete  and 
out  of  your  hands,  3'ou  are  harassed  by  a  thousand  35 
doubts.  At  times,  as  3^ou  recall  your  hours  of  toil,  you 
question  if  so  much  has  been  spent  upon  any  other; 
you  feel  almost  certain  of  success.  You  repeat  to  your- 
self some  passages  of  special  eloquence  at  night.  You 
fancy  the  admiration  of  the  professors  at  meeting  with  40 
such  wonderful  performance.  You  have  a  slight  fear 
that  its  superior  goodness  may  awaken  the  suspicion 
tliat  some  one  out  of  the  college,  some  superior  man, 
may  have  written  it.     But  this  fear  dies  away. 

The  eventful  day  is  a  great  one  in  your  calendar;  you  41 
hardly  sleep  the  niglit  jirevious.     You  tremble  as  the 
chapel-bell  is  rung;  you  profess  to  be  very  fndiflerent; 


436        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

as  the  reading  and  the  prayer  close  you  even  stoop  to 
take  up  your  hat,  as  if  you  had  entirely  overlooked  tlie 
fact  that  the  old  president  was  in  the  desk  for  the  ex-  .*jO 
press  purpose  of  declaring  the  successful  names.  You 
listen  dreamily  to  his  tremulous  yet  fearfully  distinct 
enunciation.     Your  head  swims  strangely. 

They  all  pass  out  with  a  harsh  murmur  along  the 
aisles  and  through  the  doorways.  It  would  he  well  if  55 
there  "were  no  disa])pointments  in  life  more  terrible  than 
this.  It  is  consoling  to  express  very  de])rccating  opin- 
ions of  the  faculty  in  general,  and  very  contem})tuous 
ones  of  that  particular  ofhcer  who  decided  ujion  the  merit 
of  the  prize  themes.  An  evening  or  two  at  Dalton'sGO 
room  goes  still  farther  toward  healing  the  disappoint- 
ment, and — if  it  must  be  said — toward  moderating  the 
heat  of  your  ambition. 

You  grow  up,  however,  unfortunately,  as  the  college 
years  fly  by,  into  a  very  exaggerated  sense  of  your  own  65 
capacities.  Even  the  good  old,  white-haired  squire,  for 
whom  you  had  once  entertained  so  much  respect,  seems 
to  your  crazy  classic  fancy  a  very  humdrum  sort  of  per- 
sonage. Frank,  although  as  noble  a  fellow  as  ever  sat 
a  horse,  is  yet — you  cannot  helji  thinking — very  igno-70 
rant  of  Euripides;  even  the  jMiglish  master  of  Dr.  Bid- 
lew's  school,  you  feel  sure,  would  balk  at  a  dozen  prob- 
lems you  could  give  him. 

You  get  an  exalted  idea  of  that  uncertain  quality 
which  turns  the  heads  of  a  vast  many  of  your  fellows,  75 
called  Genius.  An  odd  notion  seems  to  be  inherent  in 
the  atmosi)here  of  those  college-chambers  that  there  is 
a  certain  faculty  of  mind — first  developed,  as  would 
seem,  in  colleges  —  which  accomplishes  whatever  it 
chooses  without  any  special  painstaking.  For  a  time  ¥i 
you  fall  yourself  into  this  very  mifortunate  hallucina- 
tion ;  you  cultivate  it,  after  the  usual  c(;llege  fashion,  by 


DONALD   G.  MITCHELL.  437 

drinking  a  vast  deal  of  strong  coffee  and  whisky  toddy,, 
by  writing  a  little  poor  verse  in  the  Byronic  temper,  and 
by  studying  very  late  at  night  with  closed  blinds.  85 

It  costs  you,  however,  more  anxiety  and  hypocrisy 
than  you  could  possibly  have  believed.  You  will  learn, 
Clarence,  when  tlie  autumn  has  rounded  your  hopeful 
summer,  if  not  before,  that  there  is  no  Genius  in  life 
like  the  Genius  of  energy  and  industry.  You  will  learn  90 
that  all  the  traditions  so  current  among  very  young  men, 
that  certain  great  characters  have  wrought  their  great- 
ness by  an  inspiration,  as  it  were,  grow  out  of  a  sad 
mistake. 

And  you  will  further  find,  when  you  come  to  measure  95 
yourself  with  men,tliat  there  are  no  rivals  so  formidaljle 
as  those  earnest,  determined  minds  which  reckon  the 
value  of  every  hour,  and  which  achieve  eminence  by 
per^'aient  application. 

Literary  ambition  may  inflame  you  at  certain  periods,  lOQ 
and  a  thought  of  some  great  names  will  flash  like  a 
spark  into  the  mine  of  your  purposes ;  you  dream  till 
midnight  over  books ;  you  set  up  shadows  and  chase 
them  down — other  shadows,  and  they  fly.  Dreaming 
will  never  catch  them.  Nothing  makes  the  "  scent  lie  105 
well "  in  the  liunt  after  distinction  but  labor. 

And  it  is  a  glorious  thing,  wlien  once  you  are  weary 
of  the  dissipation  and  the  ennui  of  your  own  aimless 
thouglit,  to  take  up  some  glowing  page  of  an  earnest 
tliinker,  and  read,  deej)  and  long,  until  you  feel  the  110 
metal  of  his  thought  tinkling  on  your  brain,  and  striking 
out  from  your  flinty  lethargy  flashes  of  ideas  that  give 
the  mind  light  and  heat.  And  away  you  go  in  the  chase 
of  what  the  soul  within  is  creating  on  the  instant,  and 
you  wonder  at  the  fecundity  of  what  seemed  so  barren,  U5 
and  at  the  ripeness  of  what  seemed  so  crude.  The  glow 
of  toil   wakes   you   to  the   consciousness  of  your  retJ 


438        STUDIES  AV  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

capacities;  j'oii  feel  sure  that  they  have  taken  a  new 
step  toward  final  development.  In  such  mood  it  is  that 
one  feels  grateful  to  the  musty  tomes  which  at  other  12Q 
hours  stand  like  curiosity-making  mummies,  with  no 
warmth  and  no  vitality.  Now  they  grow  into  the  afTec- 
tions  like  new-found  friends,  and  gain  a  hold  upon  the 
heart  and  light  a  fire  in  the  brain  that  the  years  and  the 
mould  cannot  cover  or  quench.  125 


EXTRACT. 


There  are  those  who  shudder  at  the  approach  of 
autumn,  and  who  feel  a  light  grief  stealing  over  their 
spirits  like  an  October  haze  as  the  evening  shadows 
slant  sooner  and  longer  over  the  face  of  an  ending 
August  day. 

But  is  not  autumn  the  manhood  of  the  year?  Is  it 
not  the  ripest  of  the  seasons?  Do  not  proud  flowers 
blossom — the  golden-rod,  the  orchis,  the  dahlia,  and 
the  bloody  cardinal  of  the  swamp-lands? 

The  fruits  too  are  golden,  hanging  heavy  from  the 
tasked  trees;  the  fields  of  maize  show  weeping  spindles, 
and  broad  rustling  leaves,  and  ears  half  glowing  with 
the  crowded  corn ;  the  Sejttember  wind  whistles  over 
their  thick-set  ranks  with  whispers  of  plenty.  The 
staggering  stalks  of  the  buckwheat  grow  red  with  ripe- 
nesp,  and  tip  <heir  tops  with  clustering,  tri-ccrnered 
kernels. 


22.  DANIEL   WEBSTER, 

1782-1852. 

Dakiel  Webster,  one  of  America's  greatest  states- 
men and  most  elocjuent  orators,  was  born  in  Salisbury 
(now  Franklin),  New  Hampshire,  January  18, 1782.  His 
father  was  a  farmer  who  had  served  under  Amherst  in 
the  battle  of  Ticonderoga,  and  at  the  close  of  the  French 
and  Indian  war  had  settled  in  New  Hamp.shire  as  one 
of  the  pioneers. 

Webster  prepared  for  college  partly  at  Phillips  (Exeter) 
Academy,  and  partly  at  the  home  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel 
Wood  of  Boscawen.  He  entered  Dartmouth  College  in 
1797,  and  graduated  in  1801.  After  leaving  college  \\''eb- 
ster  began  the  study  of  law,  but  soon  went  to  Fryeburg, 
Maine,  to  take  charge  of  the  town  academy  for  a  year 
at  a  salary  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  By  act- 
ing as  assistant  in  copying  deeds  for  the  register  of  the 
county  he  managed  to  increase  his  salary,  and  thus  not 
only  facilitated  his  studies,  but  also  assisted  in  his  bro- 
ther Ezekiel's  education.  He  completed  his  legal  studies 
under  the  direction  of  the  Hon.  Christopher  Gore  in 
Boston,  and  was  admitted  to  the  Suffolk  bar  in  1805. 
He  began  the  practice  of  his  profession  at  Boscawen, 
and  after  his  father's  death  removed  to  Portsmouth, 
New  Hamjishire.  In  1813  he  was  elected  to  Congress, 
and  was  again  elected  in  1815.  His  first  speech  in  Con- 
gress was  delivered  in  1813,  on  the  Berlin  and  Milan 
Decrees,  and  it  at  once  attracted  the  attention  not  only 
of  the  House,  but  also  of  the  whole  country.     Webstei 


440         STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

at  once  became  a  leader,  and  was  ever  so  recognized  to 
tlie  time  of  his  death. 

In  1816,  Webster  removed  to  Boston,  where  he  soon 
lose  to  the  highest  rank  as  an  advocate  and  orator.  For 
F3ven  years  lie  occupied  no  public  position,  but  in  1823 
he  was  again  elected  to  the  United  States  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives. Four  years  later  he  became  a  member  of 
the  iiational  Senate,  and  was  United  States  Senator  from 
Mas5a(;husett3  up  to  the  year  1841,  when  he  accepted  the 
post  of  Secretary  of  State  in  the  Cabinet,  which  position  lie 
retained  for  two  years  under  Presidents  Harrison  and  Ty- 
ler. In  1845  he  was  again  elected  to  the  Senate,  but  waa 
again  called  to  the  Department  of  State  by  President  Fill- 
more in  1850,  and  held  the  post  to  the  time  of  his  death 
at  his  Marshfield  home,  on  the  24th  of  October,  1852. 

Webster  began  his  career  as  an  orator  when  yet  a  boy. 
While  still  in  college,  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  he  delivered 
a  Fourth-of-July  oration  at  the  request  of  the  citizens 
of  Hanover.  Just  before  leaving  college  he  delivered  a 
funeral  oration  on  the  death  of  one  of  his  classmates 
which  has  much  of  the  dignity  and  eloquence  of  his 
later  orations.  Among  the  most  notable  speeches  of 
Webster  are  his  oration  at  Plymouth  in  1820,  his  ad- 
dress at  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  Bunker  Hill 
Monument  in  1825,  his  eulogy  on  Adams  and  JelFerson 
in  1820,  and  his  re))ly  to  Senator  ll;iyne  of  Soutli  Caro- 
lina in  1829.  But  these  are  only  a  iVngment  of  this  great 
sUitesman's  famous  orations.  The  must  complete  edition 
of  his  works  was  that  consisting  of  six  volumes,  8vo, 
published  in  1851,  the  year  before  his  death. 

CRITICISM  BY   E.  A.  DUYCKINCK. 
Of  his  capacities  as  an  orator  and  writer,  of  his  for- 
ensic  triumphs   and  repute,  of  his   literary  skill   and 
KuccesH,  much  ma}'  be  said.     His  speech  had  strenglli. 


DANIEL   WEBSTER.  441 

force,  and  dignity ;  his  composition  was  clear,  rational, 
strengthei  ed  by  a  powerful  imagination — in  his  great 
orations  "the  lightning  of  passion  running  along  the  iron 
links  of  argument."  The  one  lesson  which  they  teach 
the  }  outli  of  America  is  self-respect,  a  manly  conscious- 
ness of  power,  expressed  simply  and  directly — to  look 
for  tlu;  substantial  qualities  of  tlie  thing,  and  utter  them 
distinctly  as  tliey  are  felt  intensely.  This  was  the  sum 
of  the  art  which  Webster  used  in  his  (n'utions. 

IMPORTANCE  OF  THE   UNION. 
[For  study  and  analysis.^ 

I  PROFESS,  sir,  in  my  career  hitherto  to  have  kept 
steadily  in  view  the  prosperity  and  honor  of  tlie  wliole 
country  and  the  preservation  of  our  Federal  Union.  It 
is  to  that  Union  we  owe  our  safety  at  home  and  our  con- 
sideration and  dignity  abroad.  It  is  to  that  Union  that  5 
we  are  chiefly  indebted  for  whatever  makes  us  most 
proud  of  our  country.  That  Union  we  reached  only  by 
the  discipline  of  oitr  virtues  in  the  severe  school  of  ad- 
versity. It  had  its  origin  in  the  necessities  of  disordered 
tinance,  prostrate  commerce,  and  ruined  credit.  10 

Under  its  Ijeiiign  influences  these  great  interests  im- 
mediately awoke  as  from  the  dead,  and  S])rang  forth 
with  newness  of  life,  livery  year  of  its  duration  lias 
teemed  with  fresh  proofs  of  its  utility  and  its  blessings; 
au<I  although  our  territory  has  stretched  out  wider  and  .5 
wider,  and  our  population  spread  farther  and  farther, 
they  have  not  outrun  its  protection  or  its  benefits.  It 
has  been  to  us  all  a  copious  fountain  of  national,  social, 
and  personal  happiness. 

1  have  not  allowed  myself,  sir,  to  look  beyond  the  20 
Union  to  see  what  might  lie  liidden  in  the  dark  recess 
K'hind,     I  have  not  coolly  weiglied  tlie  chances  of  j)re- 


442  STUDIES  IN  AMERLCAN  LITERATURE. 

serving  liberty  when  tlie  bonds  that  unite  us  together 
sliall  be  broken  asunder,  I  have  not  accustomed  my- 
self to  hang  oviT  the  precipice  of  Disunion  to  see  25 
whether,  with  my  short  sight,  I  can  fathom  the  depth 
of  the  abyss  below ;  nor  could  I  regard  hitn  as  a  safe 
counselor  in  the  afl'airs  of  tliis  government  whose 
tlioughts  should  be  mainly  bent  on  considering,  not 
liow  the  Union  should  be  best  preserved,  but  how  tol-  30 
erable  miglit  be  the  condition  of  the  people  when  it 
shall  be  broken  up  and  destroyed. 

While  the  Union  lasts  we  have  high,  exciting,  gratify- 
ing prospects  spread  out  before  us,  for  us  and  our  chil- 
dren. Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to  penetrate  the  veil.  35 
God  grant  that,  in  my  day  at  least,  that  curtain  may 
not  rise  I  God  grant  that  on  my  vision  never  may  be 
opened  what  lies  behind  !  When  my  eyes  shall  be 
turned  to  Ijehold  for  the  last  time  the  sun  in  heaven, 
may  I  not  see  hini  shining  on  the  broken  and  dishon-40 
ored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious  Union ;  on  States 
dissevered,  discordant,  belligerent;  on  a  land  rent  with 
civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal  blood  I 

Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather  be- 
hold the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  republic,  now  known  45 
and  honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  ad- 
vanced, its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their  orig- 
in.'d  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  nor  a  single 
ptar  obscured — bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable 
interrogatory  as,  What  is  all  this  worth  ?  nor  those  other  50 
words  of  delusion  and  folly,  Liberty  first,  and  Union 
afterward  ;  but  everywhere,  spread  all  over  in  characters 
of  living  light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds  as  they  float 
o\er  the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in  every  wind  under 
the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment  dear  to  every  hi 
true  American  heart:  Liberty  and  Union,  now  and  for 
evp:r,  one  and  inseparahle  ! 


23.  EDWARD   EVERETT, 

1794-1865, 

Edward  Everett,  America's  most  polished  orator 
was  born  at  Dorchester,  Massachusetts,  April  11,  1794 
He   died  in  Boston,  Jan.  15,  1865. 

His  early  education  was  received  in  the  public  schools 
of  Dorchester  and  Boston,  and  at  the  age  of  thirteen  he 
entered  Harvard  College,  where  he  graduated,  four  years 
later,  at  the  head  of  his  class.  While  still  an  under- 
graduate he  was  the  principal  contributor  to  the  Har- 
vard Lyceum,  a  magazine  conducted  by  the  students. 
In  1812  he  was  appointed  a  tutor  at  Harvard,  and  at 
the  same  time  he  pursued  his  studies  in  divinity.  In 
the  following  year,  while  still  a  tutor,  he  became  pastor 
of  the  Brattle  Street  Church,  where  he  immediately  won 
a  reputation  for  his  eloquence  and  power  as  an  orator. 

Everett  continued  as  tutor  at  Harvard  until  1814,  when 
he  was  elected  to  the  professorship  of  Greek  Literature 
in  the  same  institution.  He  accepted  the  position,  and 
in  the  spring  of  1815  went  to  Europe  for  the  purpose 
of  further  fitting  himself  for  his  new  duties.  He  re- 
mained abroad  until  181U,  spending  more  than  two 
years  at  the  University  of  Gottingen.  The  remainder 
of  the  time  he  si)ent  at  Paris  and  in  England,  Italy, 
Greece,  Austria,  and  Hungary.  On  his  return  in  1819 
he  not  only  assumed  the  duties  of  his  professorship,  but 
also  took  charge  of  the  A\)rth  Avierican  Review,  which 
he  conducted  till  1824,  contributing  to  it  more  than  fil'ty 
articles. 

44S 


144        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Everett's  fame  as  an  orator  was  permanently  estab 
lished  by  his  address  on  The  Circumstances  Favorable  to 
the  Progress  of  LUerature  in  America,  delivered  before  the 
Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  in  1824.  From  that  time  to 
the  time  of  his  death  he  was  recognized  as  the  most 
polished  of  American  orators,  his  speeches  in  power 
and  purity  of  diction  rivaling  those  of  Demosthenes 
and  Cicero. 

Hia  most  po{)ular  addresses  were  his  historical  ora- 
tions at  Plymouth,  Concord,  Charleston,  Lexington,  etc., 
and  his  eulogies  on  Washington,  Adams,  Jefferson,  and 
John  Quincy  Adams.  His  oration  on  Washington  is 
one  of  tlie  most  eloquent  productions  in  the  language. 
It  was  originally  delivered  in  Boston,  February  22, 1856, 
but  tlie  projector  buying  Mount  Vernon  by  private  sub- 
scription having  originated,  Everett  delivered  this  cele- 
brated oration  in  Richmond,  Virginia,  March  19,  1856, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  INIount  Vernon  fund,  and  the  ad- 
dress was  repeated  in  difl'erent  cities  of  the  Union  near- 
ly one  hundred  and  fifty  times.  The  proceeds,  which 
Mr.  Everett  generously  contributed  to  the  Mount  Ver- 
non fund,  amounted  to  nearly  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars. 

Everett  was  not  only  an  orator  and  an  autlior ;  he  was 
also  a  statesman  of  the  highest  character.  In  1824  he 
was  elected  to  the  House  of  Ilepresentatives,  and  re- 
mained a  member  until  1835,  when  he  was  for  four 
successive  years  elected  governor  of  Massachusetts.  In 
1880  he  was  defeated  for  the  same  position  b}'  one  vote. 
In  1841  he  was  sent  as  minister  to  Elngland,  where  both 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  conferre'd  on  him  the  degree  of 
D.  C.  L.  On  his  return  to  America,  in  1846,  he  was 
made  President  of  Harvard  College,  which  post  he  held 
for  three  years.  In  1852,  on  the  death  of  We])ster,  Ev- 
erett was  made  Secretary  of  State  and  in  the  following 


EDWARD  EVERETT.  445 

year  he  was  elected  to  the  United  States  Senate,  bat  ill 
health  compelled  him  to  resign  a  year  later.     He  was 
nominated  also  for  the  office  of  Vice-President  of  the 
United  States  in  ISGO,  but  was  defeated. 

His  most  enduring  works  are  hid  addresses,  which 
W(ire  published  in  1869  in  four  volumes,  under  the  title. 
Orations  and  Speeches  on  VarioivS  Occasions.  Besides  these, 
Everett  wrote  Tlie  Dirge  of  Alar ic  the  Visigoth,  Santa  Crone, 
and  other  poems. 

CRTTIOISM  BY  GEORGE  S.  UILLARD. 

The  variety  of  Mr.  Everett's  life  and  employments  is 
but  a  type  of  the  versatility  of  his  ])owers  and  the  wide 

range  of  his  cultivation His  style  is  rich  and 

glowing,  but  always  under  the  control  of  sound  judg- 
ment and  good  taste.  His  learning  and  scholarsliip 
are  never  needlessly  obtruded  :  they  are  woven  into  the 
web  of  his  discourse,  and  are  not  embossed  on  its  sur- 
face. He  wrote  under  the  inspiration  of  a  generous 
and  comprehensive  patriotism,  and  his  speeches  are 
eminently  suited  to  create  and  sustain  a  just  and  high- 
toned  national  sentiment.  Whatever  he  did  was  done 
well;  and  his  brilliant  natural  powers  were,  througli 
life,  trained  and  aided  by  those  habits  of  vigorous  in- 
dustry which  are  falsely  supposed  by  many  to  be  foimd 
only  in  connection  with  dullness  and  mediocrity. 

THE   MEMORY  OF  OUR  HONORED  DEAD. 

[For  study  and  analysis'^ 

Note. — Tlie  follo\vin<;  extract,  taken  from  his  eulogy  on  Daniel 
Webster,  admirably  ilbistraies  Everett's  styla 

In  every  succeeding  age,  and  in  every  country  in  whicli 
the  fme  arts  have  been  cuhivatcd,  the  respect  and  aflec- 


446         STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

tion  c»f  survivors  have  found  a  pure  and  rational  grati- 
fication in  the  historical  portrait  and  the  monumental 
fetatue  of  the  honored  and  loved  in  ])rivate  life,  and  5 
esj)ecial]y  of  the  great  and  good  who  have  deserved 
well  of  their  country.  Puhlic  esteem  and  confidence 
and  private  affection,  the  gratitude  of  the  community, 
and  tlie  fond  memories  of  the  fireside,  have  ever  sought 
in  this  way  to  prolong  the  sensible  existence  of  their  10 
beloved  and  rcsi)ected  objects.  What  though  the  dear 
and  lionored  features  and  person  on  which,  while  living, 
we  never  gazed  without  tenderness  or  veneration,  have 
been  taken  from  us,  something  of  the  loveliness,  some- 
thing of  the  majesty,  abides  in  the  portrait,  the  bust,  15 
and  the  statue.  Tlie  heart  bereft  of  the  living  originals 
turns  to  them ;  and,  cold  and  silent  as  they  are,  they 
strengther  and  animate  the  cherished  recollections  of 
the  loved,  the  honored,  and  the  lost. 

The  skill  of  the  painter   and  sculptor,  which   thus  20 
comes  in  aid  of  the  memory  and  imagination,  is,  in 
its  highest  degree,  one  of  the  rarest,  as  it  is  one  of  the 
most  exquisite,  accomplishments  within  our  attainment, 
and  in  its  perfection  as  seldom  witnessed  as  the  perfec- 
tion of  speech  or  of  music.     The  ])lastic  hand  must  be  25 
moved  by  tlie  same  ethereal  instinct  as  the  eloquent  lii)S 
or  tlie  recording  pen.     The  number  of  those  who,  in  the 
language  of  Michael  Angelo,  can  (iisccrn  the  finished 
Btatue  in  the  heart  of  tlie  shapeless  block,  and  l)id  it 
etart  into  artistic  life — who  are  endowed  with  the  ex-  30 
quisite  gift  of  moulding  the  rigid  Ijronze  or  the  lifeless 
marl)le  into  graceful,  majestic,  and  exjiressive  forms — is 
not  greater  than  the  number  of  those  who  are  able  with 
equal  majesty,  grace,  and  expressiveness  to  make  the 
spiritual  essence,  the  finest  shades  of  thought  and  feel- 35 
ing,  sensible  to  the  mind  tlirough  tbe  eye  and  tlie  ear 
in  the  mystc^rious  embodiment  of  the  written  and  the 


EDWARD   EVERETT.  447 

spoken  word.     If  Athens  in  her  pahniest  days  had  but 
one  Pericles,  she  had  also  but  one  Phidias. 

Nor  are  these  beautiful  and  noble  arts,  by  which  the  40 
face  and  the   form    of  the  departed   are   preserved  to 
us — calling  into  the   highest  exercise,  as  they  do.  all 
the  imitative  and  idealizing  powers  of  the  painter  and 
the  sculptor — the  least  instructive  of  our  teachers.     Tlie 
portraits  and  tlie  statues  of  the  honored  dead  kindle  the  45 
generous  ambition  of  the  youthful  aspirants  to  fame. 
Themistocles  could  not  sleep  for  the  trophies  in  the 
(Jeramicus;    and   when    the   living   Demosthenes    had 
ceased  to  speak,  the  stony  lips  remained  to  rebuke  and 
exhort  his  degenerate  countrymen.     More  than  a  hun-  50 
dred  years  have  elapsed  since  the  great  Newton  passed 
away,  but  from  age  to  age  his  statue  by  Roul>illac,  in  the 
ante-chapel  of  Trinity  College,  will  give  distinctness  to 
the  conceptions  formed  of  him  by  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands of  ardent  youthful  spirits,  filled  with  reverence  for  55 
that  transcendent  intellect  which,  from  the  phenomena 
that  fall  within  our  limited  vision,  deduced  the  imperial 
law  by  which  the  Sovereign  Mind  rules  the  entire  uni- 
verse.    We  can  never  look  on  the  i)erson  of  Wasiiing- 
ton,  but  his  serene  and  noble  countenance,  perpetuated  60 
b}''  the  pencil  and  the  chisel,  is  familiar  to  far  greater 
multitudes  than  ever  stood  in  his  living  presence,  and 
will  be  thus  familiar  to  the  latest  generation. 

What  parent,  as  he  conducts  his  son  to  Mount  Auburn 
dr  to  Bunker  Hill,  will  not,  as  he  passes  before  their  65 
iMonumental  statues,  seek  to  heighten  liis  reverence  for 
virtue,  for  patriotism,  for  science,  for  learning,  for  devo- 
tion to  the  public  good,  as  he  bids  him  contempl.ate  tlie 
form  of  that  grave  and  venerable  Winthrop  who  left  his 
pleasant  home  in  England  to  come  and  found  a  new  re-  70 
public  in  this  untrodden  wilderness;  of  that  ardent  and 
intrepid  Otis  who  first  struck  out  the  spark  of  American 


448        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

indei)erKlence ;  of  that  noble  Adams,  its  most  eloquent 
cham])iou  on  the  floor  of  Congress ;  of  that  martyr,  \V^ar- 
ren,  who  laid  down  his  life  in  its  defence;  of  tliat  self- 7S 
taught  Bowditch,  who,  without  a  guide,  threaded  the 
etarry  mazes  of  the  heavens ;  of  that  Story,  honored  at 
home  and  al)road  as  one  of  the  brightest  luminaries  of 
the  law,  and,  by  a  felicity  of  which  I  believe  there  is  no 
other  exain})le,  admirably  portrayed  in  marble  by  his  80 
Bon? 

What  citizen  of  Boston,  as  he  accompanies  the  stranger 
around   our  streets  —  guiding  him   through  our  busy 
thoroughfares,   to    our   wharves    crowded    with   vessels 
which  range  every  sea  and  gatlier  the  i)roduce  of  every  85 
climate,  up  to  the  dome  of  tliis  capitol,  which  com- 
mands as  lovely  a  hmdscape  as  can  delight  the  eye  or 
gladden  the  heart — will  not,  as  he  calls  his  attention  at 
last  to  the  statues  of  Franklin  and  ^^''ebster,  exclaim, 
"  Boston  takes  pride  in  her  natural  position,  she  rejoices  90 
in  her  beautiful  environs,  she  is  grateful  for  her  material 
prosperity;  but,  richer  than  the  merchandise  stored  in 
palatial  warehouses,  greener  than  the  slopes  of  seagirt 
islets,  lovelier  than  this  encircling  panorama  of  land  and 
sea,  of  field  and  hamlet,  of  lake  and  stream,  of  garden  95 
and  grove,  is  the  memory  of  her  sons,  native  and  adopted 
■ — the  character,  services,  and  fjinie  of  those  who  have 
benefited  and  adorned  their  day  and  generation.     Our 
cl)ildrcn  and  tlie  schools  at  which  they  are  trained,  our 
citizens  and  the  services  they  have  rendered, — these  are  100 
our  jewels,  these  our  abiding  treasures." 

Yes,  your  long  rows  of  (juarried  granite  may  crumble 
to  the  dust;  tiie  corn-fields  in  yonder  villages,  ripening 
to  the  sickle,  may,  like  the  plains  of  stricken  Lombardy 
a  few  weeks  ago,  be  kneaded  into  bloody  clods  by  the  105 
madding  wheels  of  artillery;  tbis  populous  city,  like 
tlie  old  cities  of  Etruria  and  Campagna  Romagna,  may 


CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS.  44y 

be  desolated  by  tlie  pestilence  which  Avalketh  in  dark- 
Pxcss,  may  decay  with  the  lapse  of  time,  and  the  busy 
mart,  which  now  rings  with  the  joyous  din  of  trade,  110 
become  as  lonely  and  still  as  Carthage  or  Tyre,  as  Baby- 
lon or  Ninevcji,  but  the  names  of  the  great  and  good 
eliall  survive  the  desolation  and  the  ruin;  the  memory 
of  the  wise,  the  brave,  the  patriotic,  shall  never  perish. 

Yes,  S]>arta  is  a  wheat-field;  a  Bavarian  prince  holds  115 
court  at  the  foot  of  the  Acropolis;  the  traveling  virtuoso 
digs  for  marble  in  the  Roman  Forum  and  beneath  the 
ruins  of  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus;  but  Lyour- 
gus  and  Leonidas,  and  Miltiades  and  Demosthenes,  and 
Cato  and  Tully,  "  still  live ;"  and  he  still  lives,  and  all  120 
the  great  and  good  shall  live  in  the  heart  of  ages  while 
marble  and  bronze  shall  endure ;  and  when  marble  and 
bronze  have  perished  they  shall  "  still  live  "  in  memory 
80  long  as  men  shall  reverence  law  and  honor  patriotism 
and  love  liberty  !  I2f 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS. 

POETS. 

Richard  H.  Dana  (1787-1879).— Editor  of  the  North  American 
Review.  Educated  at  Harvard,  Author  of  The  Buccaneer  and 
Poer/i'<  and  Prn^e  Writings. 

John  Pierpont  (1785-18()6). — A  clergyman.  Educated  at  Yale. 
Was  also  a  merchant.  Wrote -4  (Vs  of  Palestine,  Passing  A  way, 
£  Pliiribus  Unum,  etc. 

James  G.  Percival  (1795-1856). — A  surveyor  and  eminent 
linguist.  Assisted  in  the  preparation  of  Webster^s  Dictionarij. 
Author  of  Clio,  three  vohimes  of  miscellanies,  and  the  poems 
Prometlieus,  To  Seneca  Lake,  antl  others. 

Lydia  H.  Sigourney  (1791-18(55).— Called  "  the  Mrs.  Jleniana 
of  America."     Was  both  a  poet  and  a  prose-writer.     Autlior  of 
Letters  to  Young  Ladies,  Letters  to  viy  Pujnls,  and  many  other 
works,  both  prose  and  poetry. 
29 


450        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Charles  Sprague  (1791-1875). — Both  a  poet  and  a  banker. 
Educated  at  the  Franklin  School,  Boston.  Author  of  an  OdA 
oil  Shakespeare,  Curiosity,  The  Winged  Worshipers,  etc. 

John  Howard  Payne  (1792-1852). — An  actor  and  dramatist. 
A.uth()r  of  Brutus  and  other  dramas.  Wrote  "  Home,  Sweet 
llome." 

George  P.  Morris  (1801-1864). — A  journalist  and  poet.  Ed- 
itor of  the  Home  Journal.  An  excellent  writer  of  songs.  Au- 
thor of  311/  Mother's  Bible,  Wood7nan,  Spare  that  Tree,  etc. 

George  D.  Prentice  (1802-18G9).— Editor  of  the  Louisville 
Journal.  Educated  at  Brown  University.  Noted  for  the  wit 
and  satire,  as  well  as  the  power,  of  his  editorials.  Author  of 
Tlie  Flight  of  Years  and  many  shorter  poems. 

Charles  Fenno  Hoffman  (1806-1884).— Both  lawyer  and  poet. 
Educated  at  Columbia  College.  Wrote  also  prose.  Author  of 
Wild  Scenes  in  the  Forest  and  the  Prairie  and  Tlie  Vigil  of  Faith 
and  Other  Poems. 

William  Gilmore  Simms  (1806-1870). — Novelist,  historian,  and 
poet.  Practiced  law  for  a  time,  and  then  became  an  editor.  Au- 
thor of  The  Partisan,  The  Yemassee.  History  of  South  Carolina, 
Life  of  Marion,  etc. ;  also  Atlantis,  Lays  of  Palmetto,  and  other 
poems. 

Edgar  A.  Poe  (1809-1849).— A  brilliant  but  eVratic  genius. 
A  native  of  Baltimore.  Author  of  the  poems  TTie  Raven,  An- 
nabel Lee,  The  Belk,  and  some  weird  romances:  The  Fall  of  the 
House  of  Usher,  The  Gold  Bug,  The  Murders  of  the  Rue  Morgue, 
and  others. 

Alfred  B.  Street  (1811-1881).— A  lawyer  at  Albany.  A  de- 
scriptive poet.  Author  of  Frontenac,  The  Gray  Forest  Eagle, 
and  other  poems.  Wrote  also  Forest  Pictures  in  the  Adirondack* 
and  other  prose  works. 

Frances  S.  Osgood,  formerly  Afiss  Locke  (1812-1850). — 
A  'il  lior  of  A  Wreath  of  Wild  Flowers  from  Nexv  England  and 
other  poems. 

John  G.  Saxe  (1816-1887).— A  celebrated  humorous  poet. 
Educated  at  Middlebury  College.  Was  a  lawyer.  Wrote 
many  excellent  })oems.  Autlior  of  The  Rriefiess  liarr'iste".  The 
Proud  Miss  Mac  Bride,  Pyramus  and  Thisbc,  Rhyme  on  the  Rail^ 
and  many  similar  poems. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  451 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welby  (1819-1852).— A  graceful  writer  upon 
themes  in  domestic  life  and  natural  emotions.  Author  of  Poems 
by  Amelia. 

Alice  Gary  (1820-1871). — One  of  America's  best  female  poets. 
Author  of  Thanksgiving,  Pictures  of  Memory,  Tlie  Bridal  Veil, 
An  Order  for  a  Picture,  Tlie  Poet  to  the  Painter,  and  other  poems, 
together  with  several  prose  works :  Married  and  Mated,  Clover- 
nook,  Pictures  of  Country  Life,  etc. 

Thomas  Buchanan  Read  (1822-1872). — Both  a  poet  and  an 
artist.  Spent  much  of  his  life  in  Italy.  Wrote  The  New  Pas- 
toral, The  Wagoner  of  the  Alleghanies,  The  House  by  the  Sea, 
Drifting,  Sherida/i^s  Ride,  etc. 

George  H.  Boker  (1824-1890). — A  lyric  and  dramatic  poet. 
Was  United  States  minister  to  Turkey  and  Russia.  Wrote 
Calaynos,  Anne  Boleyn,  and  other  dramas ;  also,  The  Ivory- Carver, 
The  Black  Regiment,  The  Ballad  of  Sir  John  Franklin,  and  other 
poems. 

John  T.  Trowbridge  (1827 ). — A  novelist  and  poet.  Very 

popular  in  both  dej)artments  of  literature.  Author  of  Neighbor 
Jackwood,  Lawrence^ s  Adventures,  Coupon  Bonds,  etc.  Among  his 
most  popular  poems  are  The  Vagabonds,  The  Charcoal-Man,  and 
Farmer  John. 

Paul  H.  Hayne  (1831-1886).— An  editor  and  poet.  His  works 
consist  mostly  of  short  poems.  Wrote  The  Temptation  of  Ve- 
nus, a  volume  entitled  Avolio;  also,  one  entitled  Legends  and 
Lyrics. 

Phoebe  Gary  (1825-1871).— Sister  of  Alice  Gary.  Her  style 
was  more  buoyant  than  tliat  of  her  sister.  Wrote  Poems  and 
Parodies;  Poems  of  Faith,  Hope,  and  Love;  Hymns  for  All  Chris- 
tians, etc. 

E.  C.  Stedman  (1833 ).— Banker,  poet,  and  critic.   Wrote 

77ie  Doorstep,  Pan  in  Wall  Street,  John  Brown  of  Ossawatomie, 
Alice  of  Monmouth,  and  a  volume  entitleil  The  Victorian  Poets, 
etc. 

Mrs.  Celia  Thaxler  ( 1 835-1 8<)4).— An  excellent  writer  of  both 
prose  and  poetry.  Author  ot  The  Little  Sandpiper,  The  Wreck 
9f  the  Pocahontas,  Before  Sunrise,  The  Burgomaster  Gull,  and 
Diany  other  short  poenis. 

Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich  (1830 ). — A  lyric  poet  and  nov- 


452        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

eiist.  Wrote  Babie  Bell,  The  Face  against  the  Pane,  Friar  ,/eroi)u'$ 
Beautiful  Book,  and  other  poems ;  also,  The  Stonj  of  a  Bad  Boy, 
Mnrjoiii  Daw  and  Other  People,  and  Prudence  Palfrey. 

Francis  Bret  Harte  (1839-11*03). — A  writer  of  both  poetry 
and  prose.  A  journalist.  For  a  time  editor  of  The  Overland 
Monthly.  Wrote  The  Heathen  Chinee,  The  Luck  of  Roaring 
Cninp,  etc. 

Richard  Henry  Stoddard  (1825 ). — A  poet  and  magazine- 
writer.  Author  of  seiveral  volumes  of  poetry  and  prose.  Wrote 
Burial  of  Liricoln,  The  Burden  of  Unrest,  On  the  Town,  etc. 

John  Hay  (1X41 ). — Lawyer,  editor,  and  poet.     Educated 

at  Brown  University.  Wrote  Pike  County  Ballads,  Castilian 
Days,  etc. 

Joaquin  Miller  (Cincinnatus  Heine  Miller),  (1841 ). 

— A  writer  of  extravagant  and  unnatural  poems.  Author  of 
Songs  of  the  Sierras,  The  Ship  in  the  Desert,  Songs  of  the  Sun- 
iMnds,  etc. 

Lucy  Larcom  (1826-1893). — An  excellent  poet.  Was  a  mill- 
hand  for  a  time,  then  a  teacher  in  both  IMassachusetts  and 
Illinois.  Edited  Our  Young  Folks.  Author  of  Similitudes,  Breath- 
ings of  a  Better  Life,  Childhood  Songs,  Idyl  of  Work,  lioadside 
Poems,  etc. 

PROSE-WRITERS. 
1.  Historians  and  Biographers  : 

Jared  Sparks  (1794-1866). — A  biographer.  Editor  (A  Ameri- 
can Biograjihy,  twenty-five  volumes,  and  author  of  Life  of  Wash- 
ington, Life  of  Franklin,  etc. 

Charles  E.  A.  Gayarre  (1805-1895).— An  historian.  Educated 
at  New  Orleans  College.  Author  of  History  of  Louisiana,  Ro- 
mance of  the  History  of  Louisiana,  Spanish  Domination  in  Jjouit- 
iana. 

S.  Austin  Allibone,  LL.D.  (1816-1889).— An  American  bibli 
ographer.     Author  of  Dictionary  of  Authors,  Poetical  Quotations, 
I^ose  Quotations. 

Jacob  Abbott  (1803-1880).— A  pojiuhir  autluir  of  juvenile 
works.  l'Mii(;ati'd  at  IJowdoin  College.  Author  of  The  Hollo 
Bookf,  The  Lucy  Books,  The  Franconian  Stories;  also,  a  series 
of  biograj)hie8,  including  Cyrus  the  Great,  Xer.ies,  Julius  Ca- 
tat,  etc. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  453 

John  S.  C.  Abbott  (1805-1877).— A  Congregational  clergy- 
man. Educated  at  Bowdoin  College.  Author  of  History  of 
Napoleon  Bonaparte  ;  also,  a  series  of  biographies  on  Josephine, 
Maria  Ijouisa,  Louis  Philippe,  Nicholas,  etc. 

James  Parton  (1822-1891). — Born  in  England.  A  writer  of 
great  industry.  Author  of  Life  of  Horace  Greeley,  Life  of  Aaron 
Burr,  Life  of  Andrew  Jackson,  Life  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  etc. 

Francis  Parkman  (1823-1893). — A  brilliant  historian.  Edu- 
catcii  at  Harvard.  Author  of  The  Conspiracy  of  Fontiac,  The 
Jesuits  in  America,  TJie  Discovery  of  (he  Great  West,  The  Pioneers 
of  France  in  the  Neio  World,  etc. 

Benson  J.  Lossing  (1813-1891). — An  editor  and  engravei;. 
Author  of  Pictorial  Field- Book  of  the  Revolution,  History  of  the 
United  States,  History  of  the  War  of  1812,  Pictorial  History  of  the 
Civil  War,  etc. 

Richard  Hildreth  (1807-1865).— A  lawyer  and.  editor.  Edu- 
cated at  Harvard.  Author  of  a  History  of  the  United  States,  six 
volume.'!. 

John  G.  Shea,  LL.D.  (1824-1892).— Author  of  The  Catholie 
Church  in  the  United  States,  I^egendary  History  of  Ireland,  etc. 
Also  translator  and  editor  of  many  works. 

2.  Writers  of  Fiction : 

Mrs.  Catharine  M.  Sedgwick  (1789-1867).— Author  of  Hope 
Leslie,  Redwood,  The  Poor  Rich  Alan  and  the  Rich  Poor  Man, 
and  other  tales. 

John  P.  Kennedy  (1795-1870). — A  lawyer.  Secretarj' of  the 
Navy  under  Pllliiiore.  Became  provost  of  the  University  of 
Maryland.  Author  of  Quodlibet,  Swallow  Barn,  Horse-Shoe  Rob- 
inson, Rob  of  the  Bowl,  etc. 

Mrs.  Lydia  Maria  Child  (1802-1880).— A  popular  writer  of 
many  novels  and  miscellaneous  books.  Author  of  Philothea, 
The  Frvyal  Housewife,  The  J\fothcr's  Book,  Biographies  of  Good 
Wives,  Life  of  Afadnme  de  Stnl''l,  Life  of  Madame  Roland,  etc. 

Mrs.  Emily  Judson  (1817-1854). — A  teacher  from  the  age  of 
fourteen  to  the  age  of  twenty-three.  Wrote  under  the  nom-de- 
plume  "  Fanny  Forester."  Author  of  Alderbrook,  The  Kathayan 
Slave,  My  Tivo  Sisters,  etc. 

Harriet  BeeoherStowe  (181 2-189G).— Daughter  of  Rev.  Lyman 


454        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Beecher,  wife  of  Prof  Calvin  E.  Stowe.  Her  best-known  hook 
is  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  Wrote  also  Oldtown  Folks,  Pink  and  Wliite 
Tyninnij,  etc. 

John  Esten  Cooke  (1830-1886).— A  Southern  novelist  and 
biographer.  A  lawyer  by  profession.  Author  of  The  Virginia 
Comedians,  Henry  St.  John,  Surrey  of  Eaglets  Nest,  Hilt  to  Hilt, 
JIammtr  and  Rapier,  etc. ;  also,  biographies  of  Stonewall  Jack- 
son and  General  Eohert  E.  Lee. 

Edward  Everett  Hale  (1822 ). — A  Unitarian  clergyman. 

Educated  at  Harvard.  Author  of  The  Man  Without  a  Country, 
If,  Y''s,  and  Perhaps,  Tlie  Ingham  Papers,  Ten  Times  One  is  Ten, 
and  many  other  novels. 

T.  S.  Arthur  (1809-1885).— For  many  years  an  editor.  Wrote 
Ten  Nights  in  a  Bar-room,  Sketches  of  Life  and  Character,  Lights 
and  Shadows  of  Real  IJfe,  and  many  other  works  of  a  domestic 
character. 

Richard  Henry  Dana,  Jr.  (1815-1882).— Son  of  R.  H.  Dana, 
the  poet.  Educated  at  Harvard.  Author  of  Two  Years  before 
the  Mast,  etc. 

Mrs.  Sara  J.  LippincottC  Grace  Greenwood"),  (1823-1 9041.— 
A  graceful  writer  of  sketches.  Wrote  Greemvood  Leaves,  Hnpt 
and  Mishaps  of  a  Tour  in  Europe,  Merrie  England,  History  of  My 
Pets,  a  volume  of  poems,  etc. 

Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney  (1824 ).— Popular  both  as  a  nov- 
elist and  a  poet.  Author  of  Mother  Goose  for  Grown  Folks,  Faith 
Gartney's  Girlhood,  A  Summer  in  Leslie  Goldlhwaite!' s  Life,  We 
Girl's,  etc. 

Miss  Louisa  M.  Alcott  (1832-1888).— A  popular  writer  of 
stories.  Autlior  of  Ho.y)ital  Sketches,  Little  Worncn,  An  Old- 
Fashioned  Girl,  Little  Men,  etc. 

Seba  Smith  ("Major  Jack  Downing"),  (1792-1868).— An 
editor  by  profession.  Wrote  many  articles  in  the  Yankee 
dialect.  Autlior  of  Powhattan,  Down  East,  New  Elements  of 
Geometry,  etc. 

Mrs.  Louise  Chandler  Moulton  (1835 ). — Began  contrib- 
uting to  periodicals  in  her  fifteenth  year.  Wrote  Thi.<t,  That, 
and  the  Other;  Juno  Clifford,  Bed-time  Stories,  Some  Women't 
Hearts,  etc. 

Mrs.  Mary  V.  Terhune  ("Marion  Harland  "),  (1835 )- 


CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS.  455 

An  American  novelist.  Author  o^  Alone,  Tlie  Hidden  Path,  Most 
Side,  Miriam,  Husks,  True  as  Steel,  etc. 

Mrs,  Augusta  J.  Evans  Wilson  (1835-1891). — An  American 
novelist.  Wrote  Inez,  Beulah,  Macaria,  St.  Elmo,  Vashti,  In- 
/dice,  etc. 

Edward  Eggieston,  D.  D.  (1837 ). — A  clergyman  and  pop- 

llar  novelist.  Wrote  The  HooHier  Schoolmaster,  The  End  of  the 
Wot  Id,  Mi/sferi/  of  MetrdpoUsville,  Tlie  Oircuit-Rider,  etc. 

William  D.  Howells  (1837 ). — A  popular  novelist.  Be- 
came editor  of  the  Atla7itic  Monthly  in  1870.  Was  consul  at 
Venice  1  SGI -05.  Author  of  Venetian  Life,  Italian  Journeys, 
Their  Weddinij-Jotirney ,  A  Chance  Acquaintance,  etc. ;  also,  a 
volume  of  poems. 

Mary  Cio.'cmep  (1838-1884). — One  of  America's  best  news- 
paper correspondents.  Author  of  Memorial  of  Alice  and  Phoebe 
Gary,  His  Two  Wives,  a  volume  of  poems. 

W.  T.  Adams  ("Oliver  Optic"),  (1822- 1897).— A  prolific  writer 
of  novels  for  young  people.  Author  of  The  Boat  Club,  Wood- 
ville.  Army  and  Navy,  Yonng  America  Abroad,  Lake  Shore,  etc. 

Rev.  Edward  P.  Roe  (1838-1888).— A  popular  novelist.  Edu- 
cated at  Williams  College.  Author  of  Barriers  Burnt  Away, 
Opening  a  Chestnut- Burr,  Wliat  Can  She  Dof  EVom  Jest  to  Earnest; 
also,  Play  and  Profit  in  my  Garden  and  Success  with  Small  Fruits. 

Henry  James,  Jr.  (1843 ). — A  popular  novelist.     Son  of  a 

Swedenborgian  clergyman.  Began  as  a  magazine-writer.  Author 
of  The  Europeans,  The  Americans,  Painy  Miller,  An  Intertiational 
Episode;  also.  Transatlantic  Sketches,  Frencii  Poets  and  Novel- 
ists, etc. 

3.  Writers  on  General  and  Polite  Literature  : 

George  Ticknor  (1791-1871). — A  distinguished  writer  on  the 
history  of  literature.  Educated  at  Dartmouth.  Longfellow's 
predecessor  as  Professor  of  Literature  at  Harvard.  Wrote  the 
History  of  Spanish  Literature,  Life  of  Prescott,  etc. 

Samuel  G.  Goodrich  ("Peter  Parley"),  (1793-1863).— One  of 
America's  best-known  authors.  Wrote  more  than  one  hundred 
and  seventy  volumes,  consisting  of  sketches,  histories,  travels, 
and  poems. 

Hon.  George  P.  Marsh  (1801-1882). — A  lawyer  ard  ])hilologi3t. 


456  STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Educated  at  Harvard.  Author  of  Lechircn  mi  the  English  Lan- 
guage, History  of  the  English  Language,  Man  and  Nature — all 
works  of  irreat  value. 

Henry  Reed,  LL.D.  (1808-1854).— Educated  at  the  University 
of  Pennsylvania.  Became  Professor  of  English  Literature  iu 
liie  same  institution.  Author  of  Ijcctures  on  English  Literature, 
English  History,  etc.,  and  editor  of  Wordsworth's  Works,  Arnold's 
Lectures,  etc. 

Margaret  Fuller  Ossoli  (1810-1850).— A  brilli.ant  and  thought- 
ful writer.  Was  drowned,  with  her  husband.  Count  d'Ossoli, 
and  their  child,  on  her  return  from  Italy.  Wrote  Summer  on 
the  Lakes,  Wonnvt  in  (he  Nineteenth  Century,  etc. 

H.  T.  Tuckerman  ( 1813-1871 ). — A  voluminous  writer  of  essays 
and  criticisms.  Author  of  Rambles  and  Renews,  Thoughts  on 
tJie  I^oets,  The  Criterion,  Maga  Papers,  Artist  Life,  and  many 
other  works. 

Evart  A.  Duyckink  (181G-1878). — A  writer  on  biography  and 
history.  Author,  with  his  brother  George,  of  Cyclopcedia  of 
American  Literature  and  History  of  the  Civil  War. 

H.  D.  Thoreau  (1817-181)2),— An  eccentric  but  brilliant  writer. 
Educated  at  Harvard.  Wrote  Walden;  or.  Life  in  the  Woods; 
Escursions,  Maine   Woods,  etc. 

James  T.  Fields  (1817-1881). — A  bookseller  and  author. 
Editor  of  the  Atlantic  Monthly  for  eight  years.  Author  of 
Yesterdays  with  Authors. 

E.  P.  Whipple  (1819-1886).— A  lecturer  and  writer  on  criti- 
cism. His  chief  works  are  six  volumesi'  of  orations,  reviews, 
and  essays. 

Richard  Grant  White  (1822-1SS5). — A  Shakespearian  scholar 
and  critic.  Educated  at  the  University  of  New  York.  Wrote 
the  Life  of  Shakespeare,  Words  and  their  Uses,  Every-Day  Eng- 
lith.     Also  edited  an  edition  of  Hhakespeare. 

T.  W.  Higginson  ( 1823 ). — A  brilliant  essayist.    Educated 

at  Harvard.  Wrote  Malbone:  an  Oldport  Romance;  Army  IJfe 
%%  a  Black  Regiment,  Atlantic  Essays,  Outdoor  Papers,  Youtig 
Folkt  History  of  the  United  States,  etc. 

Fred  Cozzens  (1818-18G9). — A  popular  magazine-writer.  Was 
R  wine-morchant.  Author  of  The  Sj.arrowgrass  Papers,  The  WinC' 
Press,  etc. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  457 

W.  D.  Whitney,  LL.D.  (1827-1894).— A  celebrated  Oriental 
scholar.  Educated  at  Williams  College.  Wrote  Language  and 
the  Science  of  Language.     Is  a  professor  in  Yale  College. 

Mary  A.  Dodge  ("Gail  Hamilton"),  (1838-18%).— A  writer 
of  sketches.  Author  of  A  New  Atmosphere,  Gala  Days,  Country 
Living,  etc. 

Alexander  H.  Everett  (1792-1847).  —  Brother  of  Edward 
Everett.  Educated  at  Harvard.  Graduated  when  only  fifteen. 
Studied  law  with  John  Q.  Adams.  Wrote  Europe,  State  of 
America,  etc. 

Fanny  Fern  (1811-1872). — Wife  of  James  Parton  and  sister 
of  N.  P.  \V'illis.  A  witty  writer  of  sketches  and  tales.  Authoi 
of  Fern-Leaves,  Little  Ferns,  Hits  at  Folly  as  it  Flies ;  also,  the 
novels  Ruth  Hall  and  Rose  Clark. 

Rufus  W.  Griswold,  D.  D.  (1815-1857).— A  Baptist  clergyman; 
also  an  editor.  Wrote  The  Poets  and  Poetry  of  America,  The 
Prose- Writers  of  America,  Female  Poets  of  America,  Washington 
and  the  Generals  of  the  Rcvnlutinn. 

Benjamin  F.  Taylor  (1822-1887).— Son  of  President  Taylor 
of  Madison  University,  N.  Y.  Wrote  Attractions  of  Language, 
January  and  June,  Songs  of  Yesterday,  Jn  Camp  and  Field,  etc. 
Author  also  of  some  poems.  Editor  for  many  years  of  the 
Chicago  Evening  Journal. 

Charles  Dudley  Warner   (1829 ). — A  genial   and  witty 

writer.  Educated  at  Hamilton  College.  Wrote  My  Summer  in 
a  Garden,  Back-log  Studies  ;  Paddeck,  and  thai  Sort  of  Thing;  My 
Winter  on  the  Nile,  Pcing  a  Boy,  etc. 

Elizabeth    Stuart   Phelps    (1844 ). — A    writer   on   social 

topics  and  sketches.  Author  of  Gates  Ajar,  Jfedged  Ln  ;  Men, 
Women,  and  Ghosts;  The  Silent  Partner,  etc. 

4.  Essayis'x  : 

Henry  C.  Carey  (1793-1879). — A  writer  on  political  economy," 
1I30  a  jmblisher.  Author  of  Principles  of  J'nlitical  Economy  ;  The 
Past,  the  Present,  and  the  Future,  and  other  works,  including 
many  pamphlets. 

Francis  Wayland  (1796-18(35). — President  of  Brown  Univer- 
sity.  Educated  at  Union  College.  Author  of  Elements  of  Mora* 
Science,  Political  Economy,  Trcatiee  on  Intellectual  Philosophy,  etc. 


458        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Horace  Mann  fl70fi-1859). — A  writer  on  education.  Autnoi 
of  Lectures  on  Education  ;  Report  of  an  Edue^itional  Tour  in  Oer- 
many,  Great  Britain,  etc. ;  A  Few  Tkouykts  for  a  Youny  Man  on 
Entering  Life,  etc. 

Benjamin  Silliman  (1779-1804). — A  prominent  scientist.  Edu- 
cated at  Yale.  Professor  of  Ciiemistry,  Mineralogy,  and  Geol- 
ogy. Wrote  Journal  of  Travels  in  England,  Ilol/and,  etc. ;  Ele- 
fronts  of  Chemistni,  and  other  works. 

Orestes  A.  Brownson  ( 1 800-1  S7''>). — A  brilliant  religions  wri- 
ter, Congregational ist,  Presbyterian,  Universalist,  Unitarian, 
and  Catholic  in  turn.  Author  of  diaries  El  wood ;  or.  The  In- 
fidel Converted ;  Liberalism  and  the  Church,  The  Covenant,  etc. 

Theodore  D.  Woolsey,  D.  D.,  LL.D.  (1801-1889).— President 
of  Yale  College  from  184t)  to  1871.  Educated  at  Yale.  Wrote 
an  Introduction  to  the  Sludij  of  International  Law  and  Tlie  Relig- 
ion of  the  Present  and  the  Future. 

Tayler  Lewis  (1802-1877). — A  brilliant  and  versatile  scholar. 
Educated  at  Union  College.  Began  life  as  a  lawyer,  and  then 
became  a  professor  in  the  University  of  the  City  of  New  York. 
Wrote  The  Nature  and  Ground  of  Punishment,  The  Six  Days  of 
Creation,  etc. 

Matthew  F.  Maury  (1806-1873). — A  noted  scientific  writer. 
Wrote  Physical  Geography  of  the  Sea  and  a  number  of  magazine 
articles. 

Louis  J.  R.  Agassiz  (1807-1873).- -An  American  naturalist. 
Born  in  Switzerland.  Came  to  America  in  1847.  Became  a 
professor  in  Harvard  College.  Author  of  History  of  the  Fresh- 
Wnter  Fishes,  Methods  of  Study  in  Natural  History,  A  Journey  in 
Brazil,  etc. 

0.  M.  Mitchel  (1810-1802).— An  American  astronomer.  Ed- 
ucated at  West  Point.  Became  a  lawyer.  ^Vrote  Planetary 
and  Stellar  Worlds,  A  Popular  Astronomy,  etc. 

Theodore  Parker  (1810-1800). — A  clergyman.  Author  of 
Historic  Arnericans,  Selections  from  the  World  of  Mind  and  Mat- 
ter ;  Sermons  on  Theism,  Atheism,  and  Popular  Theology;  also 
many  rritical  and  miscellaneous  writings, 

Horace  Greeley  (1811-1872). — A  great  journalist  and  reform- 
er. Founded  the  New  York  Tribune.  Autlior  of  The  American 
(kiiijlict,  Rccolkctions  of  a  Busy  Life,  ]Vliat  I  Know  about  Farming. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS  WRITERS.  459 

Dr.  John  W.  Draper  (1811-1882). — A  learned  scientific  writer. 
Born  in  Eiiirland.  Autlior  of  treatises  on  TTie  Organization  of 
Plants,  Chemistry,  Natural  Philosophy,  Human  Physiology  ;  also, 
History  of  the  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe,  History  of  the 
American  Civil  War,  etc. 

Helen  Hunt  (1831-1885).— Daughter  of  Professor  Natlian 
Fiske  of  Amherst  College.  Wrote  under  the  nom-de-plume 
*H,  H."     Author  of  Bits  of  Travel  and  a  volume  of  poems. 

T.  DeWitt  Talmage  (1832-1902). — An  American  clergyman 
and  popular  lecturer.  Educated  at  the  University  of  New 
York.  Author  of  Tlie  Almond  Tree  in  Blossom,  Crumbs  Swept 
Up,  Around  the  Tea- Table,  Old  Wells  Bug  Out. 

Theodore  Tilton  (1835 ). — A  brilliant  lecturer.  Edu- 
cated at  Yale  College.  Edited  The  Independent,  also  The  Golden 
Age.     Author  of  a  number  of  poems  and  essays. 

5.  Orators: 

John  Quincy  Adams  (1767-1848).— .Sixth  President  of  the 
United  States.  Son  of  President  John  Adams.  Educated  at 
Harvard.  His  reputation  as  an  orator  is  based  mostly  on  his 
speeches  in  Congress. 

Henry  Clay  (1777-1852).— Known  as  the  "Mill-boy  of  the 
Slashes."  Became  United  States  Senator  from  Kentucky. 
Was  Secretary  of  State  under  John  Quincy  Adams.  His  rep- 
utation rests  on  his  powers  as  a  debater  in  the  Senate. 

John  C.  Calhoun  (1782-1850).- Educated  at  Yale  College. 
Was  United  States  Senator  from  South  Carolina,  and  Secretary 
of  State  under  President  Monroe.  Was  also  Vice-President  of 
the  United  States.  Noted  for  his  speeches  while  in  the  Senate. 
Was  an  ardent  advocate  of  the  doctrine  of  "State  Rights." 

Lewis  Cass  (1782-1806).— A  member  of  the  United  States 
Senate,  and  Secretary  of  War  under  President  Jackson.  Was 
also  minister  to  France.  Author  of  France,  its  King,  Court,  and 
Government. 

Rufus  Choate  (1709-1850).— An  eminent  lawyer.  Educated 
at  Dartmoutli  College.  Was  for  a  time  United  States  Senator. 
He  was  a  brilliant  orator,  though  his  sentences  have  been  much 
criticised  on  account  of  their  many  clauses  and  great  length 

W.    H.    Seward    (1801-1872).— A   distinguished    lawyer   and 


460        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Btatcsnian.  United  States  Senator  from  New  York,  and  Sec* 
retary  of  State  under  President  Lincoln.  Author  of  Life  of 
John  Quinaj  Adams,  Life  of  De  Witt  Clinton,  and  many  orations 
in  the  United  States  Senate. 

Charles  Sumner  (1801-1873). — An  eminent  lawyer  and  states^ 
man.  Educated  at  Harvard.  United  States  Senator  from  Maa- 
Bachusetta.  Author  of  The  TVue  Grandeur  of  Natiom,  The  Bat' 
barism  of  Slnveri/,  an<l  many  other  orations. 

Wendell  Phillips  (1811-1S84). — One  of  America's  greatest 
orators.  Educated  at  Harvard.  A  lawyer  by  profession. 
Widely  tnown  as  a  popular  lecturer. 

Alexander  H.  Stephens  (1812-1883).— A  distinguished  states- 
man and  political  writer.  Educated  at  Franklin  College,  Geor 
gia.  Wrote  a  Compendium  of  the  History  of  the  United  States^ 
Tlie  Reviewers  Reviewed,  etc. 

6.    Theological  Writers  : 

Charles  Hodge,  D.  D.,  LL.D.  (1797-1878).— An  American 
theologian.  Educated  at  Princeton.  Author  of  The  Way  of 
Life,  Systematic  Tlieology,  What  is  Darwinism?  Essays  and  Re- 
views, etc. 

Charles  P.  Mcllvaine,  D.  D.,  LL.D.,  D.  C.  L.  (1798-1873).— 
Educated  at  Princeton.  Protestant  Episcopal  bishop  of  Ohio. 
Author  of  Evidences  of  Christianity,  etc. 

John  Hughes,  D.  D.  (1797-1864). — American  archbishop.  Born 
in  Ireland.  Became  widely  known  through  his  controversies 
with  Dr.  Brcckenridge  and  Erastus  Brooks. 

Rev.  Albert  Barnes  (1798-1870).— J:ducated  at  Hamilton  Col- 
lege. Author  of  a  series  of  Biblical  Commentaries,  Practical 
Sermons  for  Vacant  Congregations  and  Families,  etc. 

Horace  Bushnell,  D.  D.  (1804-1876). — A  (congregational  cler- 
gyman and  lecturer.  Educated  at  Yale  College.  Author  of 
Christian  Nurture,  Sermons  for  the  Neiv  Life,  Nature  »  id  the  Sur 
pernatural,  Work  and  Play,  The  Vicarious  Sacrifice,  and  other 
works. 

George  W.  Bcthune  (1805-1862).— Celebrate  I  as  a  clergyman 
ai  d  j)(>et.  Aullior  of  Early  Lost,  Early  Saved ;  The  History  of  a 
Pei.itent,  etc. ;  also,  Lays  of  Love  and  faith,  and  other  Poems,  and 
a  volume  of  Orations  and  Occasional  Discourses. 


CONTEMPORANEOUS   WRITERS.  4G1 

Richard  S.  Storrs,  D.  D.  (1821 ).— Educated  at  Aiiiherst 

College.     Author  of  Graham  Lectures  on  the  Wisdom,  Poroer,  and 
Goodness  of  God,  etc.,  and  nianv  other  addresses  and  lectures. 

George  B.  Cheever  (1807-1890). — A  clerical  writer  of  note. 
Educated  at  Bowdoin.  Author  of  Studies  in  Poetry,  God's  Hand 
in  America,  The  Journal  of  the  Pilgrims  at  Plymouth. 

Martin  J.  Spalding  (1810-1872).— Late  archbishop  of  Balti- 
more. Autlior  of  Evidences  of  Catholicity,  A  Review  of  U Au- 
bign^'s  History  of  the  Reformation,  Smithsonian  Lectures  on  Modem 
Olvilization,  etc;. 

James  McCosh,  D.  D.,  LLD.  (1811-1894).— An  eminent  meta- 
physician. Born  in  Scotland.  Came  to  America  in  1868.  Pres- 
ident of  the  College  of  New  Jersey  at  Princeton.  Author  of 
Methods  of  Divine  Government,  Logic,  The  Intuitions  of  the  Mind, 
Christianity  and  Positivism,  etc. 

Noah  Porter  (1811-1892). — An  eminent  metaphysician.  Edu 
cated  at  Yale  College.  Became  President  of  Yale  in  1871.  Au- 
thor of  Books  and  Heading,  The  American  Colleges  and  the  Amer- 
ican Public,  Elements  of  Intellectual  Science,  and  other  works. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  (1813-1887). — A  popular  preacher  and 
lecturer.  Educated  at  Amherst  College.  Has  also  done  much 
editorial  work.  Author  of  The  Star  Papers,  Lectures  to  Young 
Men,  Life  Thoughts,  Life  of  Christ ;  Nnriuood :  a  Novel,  and  many 
volumes  of  sermons  and  lectures. 

Thomas  Starr  King  ( 1824-1 8G4). — A  brilliant  Universalist 
minister,  also  a  popular  lecturer.  Wrote  The  White  Hills,  their 
Legends,  Landscapes,  and  Poetry. 

E.  H.  Chapin,  D.  D,  (1814-1880).— A  Universalist  clergyman. 
His  literary  reputation  rests  mainly  on  his  })ublic  lectures 
ind  pul|)it  oratory.  Author  of  Hours  of  Communion,  A  Token 
for  the  Sorrowing,  Moral  Aspais  of  City  Life,  Humanity  in  the 
City,  etc. 

John  McClintock,  D.  D.,  LL.D.  (1814-1870).— An  eminent 
Methodist  clergyman.  President  of  Drew  Theological  Semi- 
nary. One  of  the  authors  of  Strong  and  McClintock's  T7ieologi' 
eal  and  Biblical  Ci/clopa'dia. 

Philip  Schaff,  D.  D,  (1819-1893).— A  theologian  and  Cliurch 
historian.  l>orn  in  Switzerland.  EducatcMl  at  Tiil)iiigi'ii,  Halle, 
and  Berlin.     Came  to  America  in  1S44.     \\'rote  the  History  of 


462        STUDIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

the  Apostolic  Church,  Vindication  of  the  Idea  of  Historical  De* 
velopment,  Ancient  Church  History,  History  of  the  Q-eeds  of  Chris^ 
iindom,  etc. 

Charles  P.  Krauth,  D.  D.  (1823-1883).— An  American  theolo- 
gian. Educated  at  Pennsylvania  College.  Professor  in  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania.  His  chief  work  is  The  Conserva- 
tive Reformation  and  its  Theology. 

7.  Humorous  Writers: 

Charles  Farrar  Browne  ("Artemus  Ward  "),  (1836-1 867).— 
One  of  the  best  of  American  humorists.  An  editor  by  pro- 
fession. Author  of  Artemus  Ward  his  Book,  Artemus  Ward 
among  the  Fenians,  Artemus  Ward  among  the  Mormons,  etc. 

B.  P.  Shiilaber  ("Mrs.  Partington"),  (1814^1890).— Wrote 
Life  and  Sayings  of  Mrs.  Parti?igton,  Ktiitting-  Work,  etc. 

H.  W.  Shaw  ("Josh  Billings"),  (1818-1886).— Wrote  .Shym^a 
of  Josh  Billings,  Josh  Billings  on  Ice,  Farmers^  Almanax,  etc. 
Known  also  as  a  lecturer. 

Samuel  L.  Clemens  ("  Mark  Twain  "),  (1835 ).— A  distin- 
guished American  humorist.  An  editor  by  profession.  Wrote 
Innocents  Abroad,  Roughing  It,  Tom  Sawyer,  The  Gilded  Age 
(jointly  with  Charles  Dudley  Warner),  etc.  Known  also  aa  a 
numorous  lecturer. 

Most  of  the  other  prominent  humorists  are  given  below,  with 
their  pseudonyms: 
Charles  G.  Leiand,  "  Ilans  Breitmann." 

C.  H.  Webb,  "John  Paul." 

James  M.  Bailey,  "  iJanbury  News  Man." 

D.  R.  Locke,  "  Petroleum  V.  Nasby." 
Melville  D.  Landon,  "  Kli  Perkins." 

R.  H.  Newell,  "Orpheus  C.  Kerr"  (office-seeker) 
Robert  J.  Burdette,  "Burlington  Ilawkeye  Man." 
Samuel   W.  Small,  "  Old  Si." 


APPENDIX. 


Note. — The  following  list  includes  the  numes  of  most  of  the  authors, 
English  and  American,  that  have  risen  to  distinction  during  the  last 
quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

ENGLISH    AUTHORS. 

James   Matthew   Barrie   (1860 ). — A   popular  writer  of 

Scotch  dialect.  Educated  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh. 
Wrote  A  Windoio  in  Thrums,  The  Little  Minister,  Sentimental 
Tomnvj,   The  Professo)-''s  Love  Story,  and  some  dramatic  works. 

William  Robertson  Nicoll  (1851 ).— Educated  at  Aber- 
deen University.  Wrote  Life  of  James  Macdonnell,  Life  of  Pro- 
fessor Ainslce ;  author  also  of  Literary  Anecdotes  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Centtiry,  and  of  numerous  theological  works. 

Rudyard  Kipling  (1865 ). — Educated  at  United  Service 

College.  Wrote  the  stories  Soldiers  Three,  Captains  Cotiragcous, 
and  The  Jungle  Book.  Will  be  remembered  chiefly  by  The 
Recessional,  an  ode  written  for  the  Queen's  Jubilee. 

Israel  Zangwill  (1861-  ). — Author,  lecturer,  teacher,  jour- 
nalist. Best  known  by  his  works  The  Children  of  the  Ghetto,  and 
The  Dreamers  of  the  Qhetto. 

Andrew   Lang    (1844 )•— A  graduate  of  the  University 

of  Oxford.  ^V'■rote  Ballads  and  Lyrics  of  Old  France,  Helen  of 
Troy,  Ballads  in  Blue  China,  Books  and  Bookmen,  Homer  and  the 
Epic,  etc. 

Lewis  Carroll,  a  pseudonym  of  Rev.  Charles  L.  Dodgson 
(1832-1898).— Was  a  student  at  Christ  Church,  Oxford.  Wrote 
Alice  in  Wonderland;  Through  the  Looking  Glass,  and  Wliai  Alice 
Saw  There. 

Arthur  Conan  Doyle  (1859 ).— Educated  at  University  of 

Edinburgh.  Besides  being  a  practising  physician,  Mr.  Doyle 
is  a  noted  lecturer  and  writer.      Wrote  .Adirnturcs  of  Sherlock 

4('.3 


464  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Holmes,  A  Study  in  Scarlet,  The  Stark-Munro  Letters,  Round  the 
Red  La)np,  etc. 

Thomas  Hardy  (1840 ). — Left  the  study  of  architecture 

for  that  of  literature,  and  has  averaged  about  one  novel  a  year. 
Among  those  best  known  are  Tcss  of  the  D'  Urbervilles,  and  Jude 
the  Obscure. 

Sir  Walter  Besant  (1836-1901).— Educated  at  Christ  College, 
Cambridge,  England.  His  writings  are  of  a  scholarly  type. 
Among  bis  biographical  works  are  lives  of  Col!;/>ii/,  Whittington, 
Richard  Jeffries,  Edioard  Palmer.  Among  his  other  works  are 
All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men,  For  Faith  and  Freedom,  Beiiond 
the  Dreams  of  Avarice.  Also  wrote  Studies  in  Early  French 
Poetry,  and  The  French  Humorists. 

George  Meredith  (1828 ). — Novelist.  Educated  in  Ger- 
many. Wrote  Poeins  of  the  English  Roadside,  Poems  and  Lyrics 
of  the  Joys  of  the  Earth,  Ballads  and  Poems  of  Tragic  Life  ;  also 
the  prose  works  One  of  Our  Conquerors  and  The  House  on  the 
Beach. 

Anthony  Hope  Hawkins,  known  by  bis  book-name  Anthony 

Hope(18G3 ).— Educated  at  Oxford.     Was  a  lawyer  until 

1894;  since  then  he  has  devoted  himself  to  literature.  He  is 
both  a  lecturer  and  a  novelist.  Wrote  Prisoner  of  Zenda,  A  Man 
of  Marl-,  Phroso,  Simo7i  Dale,  The  Dolly  DiulogueK,  and  Rupert  of 
Hentzau. 

James    Payn    (1830 ). — Graduate    of    Trinity    College, 

Cambridge.  Was  editor  of  Chambers'  Journal,  and  the  Corn- 
hill  Magazine.  A  voluminous  writer  of  novels,  mostly  on  do- 
mestic subjects.  Author  of  Like  Father,  Like  Son;  The  Foster 
Brothers;   Thicker  than  Water;  In  TWil  and  Privation. 

Rev.  John  Watson  ("  Ian  McLaren  ")  (1850 ).— A  Scotch- 
Irish  minister.  Educated  at  Edinboro  University  and  atTiibin- 
gcn,  Germany.  \\ n)tv,.Beside  the  Bonnie  Rriar  liuxh,  Kate  Car- 
negie, Till'  D'li/s  of  Aulil  IiUKj  Syne,  The  Mind  MaMer,  etc. 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson  (18r>0-lS94).— I'.orn  i?i  Edinburgh, 
Scotland.  iJicd  in  Samoa,  where  he  had  gone  in  search  of 
health.  Wrote  Treasure  Islands,  The  Strange  Case  of  Dr.  Jekyll 
and  Mr.  Hyde,  Kidnapped,  Tlie  Wrecker,  The  Master  of  Ballan- 
trae,  etc. 


APPENDIX.  465 

H.  G.  Wells  (1866 ).— Educated  at  Eoyal  College  of  Sci- 
ence. Wrote  The  War  of  the  Worlds,  When  the  Sleeper  Wakes, 
The  Wheels  of  Chance,  etc. 

AMERICAN    AUTHORS. 

Thomas    Nelson    Page    (1853 ). — Author  and   lecturer. 

Graduated  iu  the  Law  Department  of  the  University  of  Vir- 
ginia. Wrote  Befd'  de  War,  Meh  Lady,  Marse  Chan,  and  Bed- 
rock. 

Frances  Hodgson   Burnett  (1849 ).— Born   in   England. 

Began  writing  for  magazines  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  Author  of 
Little  Lord  Fauntleroy,  A  Lady  of  Quality,  etc. 

John  Fiske  (1842-1901). — Original  name  John  Fiske  Green. 
Graduated  at  Harvard.  Author  of  Myths  and  Myth  Makers, 
The  Unseen  World,  The  Destiny  of  Man,  An  American  History, 
etc. 

Julian  Hawthorne  (1846 ). — Son  of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne, 

novelist.  Entered  upon  journalism  in  1872.  Wrote  Nathaniel 
Hawthorne  and  his  Wife,  Mrs.  Gainsborough^ s  Diamonds,  and 
Prince  Saroni's  Wife. 

Richard  Harding  Davis  (1864 ). — A  journalist.     Son  of 

Mrs.  Itebecca  Harding  Davis,  novelist.  Wrote  Soldiers  of  For- 
tune, and  other  stories. 

George   Washington    Cable   (1844 ). — Educated   in   the 

public  schools  of  New  Orleans.-  Founder  of  "The  Home  Cult- 
ure Clubs,"  a  system  of  small  clubs  designed  to  promote  cor- 
dial relations  between  ranks  of  society  not  otherwise  congenial. 
Wrote  Old  Creole  Days,  The  Creoles  of  Louisiana,  Dr.  Sevier,  The 
Grandisons,  and  John  March,  Southerner. 

John  Burroughs  (1831 ). — Began  life  as  a  teacher.     Was 

a  National  Bank  Examiner  from  1873  to  1884.  Author  of  Birds 
and  Poets,   Winter  Sunshine,  Fresh  Fields,  Indoor  Studies. 

George  Park  Fisher  (1827 ). — A  graduate  of  Brown  Uni- 
versity. Author  of  numerous  theological  works,  Faith  and 
national  ism,  Nature  and  Method  of  Revelation ;  author  also  of 
A  Brief  History  of  the  Nations,  and  Outlines  of  Univirsal  Hii'tory. 

Moses  Coit  Tyler  (1835 ).— Graduated  at  Yale.     Studied 

theology  at  Yule  and  Audo\er.  Wrote  History  of  American 
30 


466  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Literature  During  the  Colonial  Period,  Extending  from  1606  to 
1765  ;  The  Literary  History  of  the  American  Revolution  ;  Life  of 
Patrick  Henry,  and  (ilimpses  of  England. 

Richard  Watson  Gilder  (1S44 ). — For  many  years  editor- 
in-chief  of  Scribner's  Magazine.  Wrote  Five  Books  of  Song,  The 
Neio  Day,  In  Palestine,  etc. 

Andrew  Dickson  White  (1832 ). — Graduated  from  Yale  in 

1853.  Was  president  of  CorneW  University,  1867  to  1885.  Was 
United  States  Minister  to  Germany  and  to  Russia  later.  Wrote 
The  Neit)  Germany,  European  Schools  of  History,  and  Studies  in 
General  History. 

Horace  Howard  Furness  (1833 ). — Widely  known,  as  a 

Shakesperean  scholar,  lor  his  variorum  edition  of  "Hamlet^'  (two 
vols.),  "  Macbeth,"  "  Merchant  of  Venice,"  "  Eomeo  and  Juliet," 
and  others. 

Francis  Richard  Stockton  (1834-1903).— A  graduate  of  the 
Philadelphia  High  School  for  Boys.  Begau  life  as  a  journalist 
and  writer  for  magazines,  devoting  much  of  liis  time  to  juvenile 
literature.     Wrote  Rudder  Grange,  The  Jjady  and  the  Tiger,  etc. 

Henry  Charles  Lea  (1825 ). — Educated  privately.  En- 
gaged in  publisliing  from  1843  to  1880.  Autiior  of  Chapters 
from  the  Religious  History  of  Spain,  History  of  the  Inrpiisition 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  Superstition  and  Force,  and  other  works  bear- 
ing on  church  literature. 

Charles  Eliot  Norton  (1827-^ ).— Graduntod  at  Harvard. 

Author  of  Notes  of  Travel  and  Study  in  Italy,  Historical  Studies 
of  Church  Building  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

Amos  Bronson  Alcott  (1809-1888). — Sometimes  known  as  the 
Concord  piiilosopher.  Wrote  Conversations  with  Children  on  the 
Ooi>peh,  Emerson,  Essays,  Tablets,  etc. 

Edward  Bellamy  (1850-1898).— A  socialist  of  pronounced 
type.  Wrote  Looking  Backward,  2000-1SS7 ;  Six  to  One,  a 
Nantucket  Idyl ;  MIm  Ludington's  Sister,  a  Romance  of  Immor- 
tality;   Dr.  Hcidenhnff's  Process,  a  Noccl. 

Mark  Hopkins  (1802-1887).— President  of  Williams  College, 
1836  to  1 872.  Wrote  Evidences  of  Christianity,  Lectures  on  Moral 
Science,  Tlie  Law  of  Love,  and  Strength  and  Beauty.  Was  a  great 
educator. 


APPENDIX.  467 

James  Freeman  Clarke  (1810 ). — Graduated  from  Har- 
vard and  from  Cambridge  Divinity  School.  Wrote  Orthodoxy, 
Its  Truths  and  Errors ;  Comvion  Sense  in  Religion  ;  Steps  in  Be- 
lief; Everyday  Religion  ;    Vexed  Questions  in  Theology. 

Asa  Gray  (1810-1888). — A  noted  American  botanist.  Held 
the  chair  of  Natural  History  in  Harvard  University  from  1842 
to  1873.  Author  of  Elements  of  Botany,  A  Manual  nf  Botany, 
Treatise  on  Darwin,  Darwiniajia,  etc. 

Charles  Anderson  Dana  (1819-1897). — A  distinguished  jour- 
nalist. Assistant  Secretary  of  War  from  1863  to  1865.  Edited 
the  American  Cyclopedia.     Also  wrote  A  Life  of  General  Grant. 

Alexander  Winchell  (1824-1891).— From  1854  to  1873  and 
from  1879  to  1891  he  was  Professor  of  Geology  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Michigan.  Wrote  Sparks  from  a  Geologist's  Hammer, 
Walks  and  Talks  in  a  Geological  Field,  World  Life,  Sketches  of 
Creation. 

George  Parsons  Lathrop  (1851-1898). — Married  Rose,  daugh- 
ter of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne,  with  whom  he  wrote  Annals  of 
Georgetown  Convent.  ^Vrote  also  Rose  and  Rooftree,  Dreamland 
Days,  An  Echo  of  Passion,  Afterglow,  In  the  Distance,  A  Story  of 
Courage,  etc. 

William  Wetmore  Story  (1819-1895).— After  1848  he  lived  in 
Rome,  where  he  became  famous  as  a  sculptor.  Wrote  Excur- 
sions in  Art  and  Letters,  The  Castle  of  St.  Angela,  A  Roman  Laio- 
yer  in  Jerusalem,  The  American  Question,  Roba  di  Roma. 

Phillips  Brooks  (1835-1893). — A  noted  divine.  Rector  of 
Holy  Trinity  Church,  Philadelphia,  1862  to  1869;  and  rector 
of  Trinity  Cliurch,  Boston,  1869  to  1891,  when  he  was  made 
Bishop.  Wrote  Tolerance,  A  Century  of  Church  Growth  in 
Boston,  etc. 

Joel    Chandler  Harris  (1848 ). — A   dialect  writer,  best 

known  as  '"  Uncle  Remus."  Wrote  Uncle  Remus  and  His 
Friends,  Mingo  and  Other  Sketches  in  Black  and  White,  Balaam 
and  His  Master,  besides  many  juvenile  and  historical  sketches. 

Octavius    Brooks    Frothingham   (1822 ). — A   Unitarian 

clergyman.  Wrote  The  Safest  Creed,  Creed  and  Conduct,  Tlie 
Spirit  of  the  New  Faith,   Visions  of  the  Future. 

Francis  Hopkinson  Smith  (1838 ). — An  artist  and  a  civil 


468  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

engineer,  as  well  as  a  prolific  writer.  Wrote  Colonel  Carter,  of 
Cariersville ;  Well- Worn  Roads  of  Spain,  Holland,  and  Italy; 
American  Illustrators  ;   Venice  of  To-Daij, 

Silas  Weir  Mitchell  (1829 ).— A  distinguished  Philadel- 
phia physician.  Wrote  Doctor  and  Falieat,  Nurse  and  Patient, 
Fat  and.  Blood,  Injuries  of  the  Nerves.  Author  also  of  the  novels 
Hugh  Wi/njie,  Quaker;  In  War  Time;  Roland  Blake;  Philip 
Vernon.  Wrote  also  the  juvenile  stories  Prince  Little  Boy  and 
Fairyland  Stories,  and  some  poems. 

Francis  Marion  Crawford  (1854 ). — Born  in  Italy.  Wrote 

A  Rose  of  Yesterday  ;  Katherine  Lauderdale,  a  Tale  of  New  York 
City  Life ;  Snracinesca  ;  Sanf  llario,  Mr.  Isaacs,  etc. 

Harry  Thurston  Peck   (185G ).— Professor  in  Columbia 

College.  A  magazine  writer  and  a  literary  critic.  Wrote  Latin 
Pronunciation,  The  Personal  Equation,  etc. 

Harold  Frederic  (1856-1898). — A  journalist  and  a  writer  of 
novels.  Wrote  The  Damnation  of  Theron  Ware,  Seth's  Brothcr^s 
Wife,  In  the  Valley,  The  Copperhead,  The  Lawton  Oirl. 

Charlotte  Perkins  Stetson  (18(i0 ). — A  granddaughter  of 

Lyman  Becclicr.  Is  a  lecturer  and  a  writer  of  both  prose  and 
poetry.  Author  of  Women  and  Economics  and  In  this  Our 
World. 

Amelie  Rives,  now  Amclie  Troubetskoy. — Princess,  novelist. 
Educated  by  private  tutors.  Wrote  The  Quick  and  the  Head, 
Witness  of  the  Sun,  Afhelwold,  Barbara  Dering,  Virgi7iia  of 
Virginia. 

Thomas  Dunn  English  (1819-1902). — Born  in  Pennsylvania. 
Became  a  physician  and  practised  in  Newark,  N.  J.  Was  made 
famous  by  his  song  "  Ben  Bolt,"  written  in  1848.  lias  written 
Walter  Wood,  a  novel ;  also  American  Ballads,  and  Books  oj  Battle 
Lyricx. 

Mrs.  Harriet  Prescott  Spofford  (1835 ). — A  novelist  and 

poet,  characterized  by  great  originality  of  description  and  diver- 
sity of  style.  Wrote  Hester  Stanley  at  St.  Mark's,  The  Scarlet 
Poppy,  A  Lost  Jeivel,  Home  and  Hearth,  The  Thief  in  the  Night. 

Mrs.   Julia    Ward    Howe   (1819 ). — Educated    i>rivately. 

Before  the  Civil  War  assisted  her  husband.  Dr.  Samuel  fJridley 
HowC;  in  conducting  the  Boston  Commonicealth.     Wrote  "The 


APPENDIX.  469 

Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic,"  also  Passion  Flowers,  Sex  in  Ed- 
ucation, From  the  Oak  to  the  Olive,  3Iodern  Society. 

Will  Carleton  (1845 ). — Graduated  at  Hillsdale  College, 

Mich.  Is  best  known  as  an  author  and  a  lecturer.  Has  been 
an  editor.  Wrote  Farm  Ballads,  Farm  Festivals,  Farm  Legends 
followed  by  City  Legends,  City  Ballads,  City  Festivals. 

Hamilton  Wright  Mabie  (1845 ). — Editor  of  the  Outlook. 

A  journalist  and  an  essayist.  A  graduate  of  Columbia  College. 
Wrote  Essays  on  Work  and  Culture,  Essays  on  Books  and  Culture, 
Essays  on  Nature  and  Culture,  My  Study  Fire,  etc. 

Charles  Egbert  Craddock  (Mary  Noailles  Murfree). — A  native 
of  Tennessee.  Wrote  The  Prophet  of  Smoky  Mountain,  Where  the 
Battle  was  Fought,  In  the  Tennessee  Mountains,  and  other  stories. 

Edgar  Fawcett  (1847 ). — Graduated  at  Columbia  College. 

Has  written  Romance  and  Revery,  Purple  and  Fine  Linen,  The 
House  at  High  Bridge,  The  Adventures  of  a  Widow,  and  other 
novels. 

Mrs.  Burton  Harrison  (1835 ). — Born  in  Virginia.    Wrote 

The  Angtomaniacs,  Helen  of  Troy,  Sweet  Bells  out  of  Tune,  Bar 
Harbor  Days,  and  other  stories. 

Sidney  Lanier  (1842-1881). — Born  in  Georgia.  Graduated 
from  Oglethorpe  College,  first  in  his  class.  An  excellent  musi- 
cian and  a  poet.  Wrote  Tiger  Lillies,  a  novel ;  The  Boy's  King 
Arthur,  The  Boy's  Froissart,  The  English  Novel,  and  several  vol- 
umes of  poems. 

Richard    Malcolm   Johnson    (1822 ). — Born   in   Georgia. 

Graduated  from  Mercer  College  in  1841.  Was  both  teacher  and 
lawyer.  Wrote  Dukesborough  Tales,  Pearce  Anderson's  Will,  and 
other  stories. 

General  Lew  Wallace  (1827-1 9u5).— A  novelist.  Born  at 
Brookville,  lad.  Self-educated.  Was  governor  of  New  Mex- 
ico, where  his  wife  wrote  Land  of  the  Pueblos.  Wallace  wrote 
Ben  Hur,  The  Fair  God,  and  The  Prince  of  India. 

Maurice  Thompson  (1844 ). — Born  in  Indiana.    A  lawyer. 

Among  his  chief  writings  are  By-  Ways  and  Bird  Notes,  Songs 
of  Fair  Weathrr,  The  Stnrg  of  Louisiana,  etc. 

Eugene  Field  (IS50-1895), — Author  of  popular  juvenile  poems. 

Father  Ryan  (Abram  J.  Ryan)  (1834-1886).— A  brilliant  and 


470  STUDIES  IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

pleasing  poet.  Born  at  Norfolk,  Va.  Wrote  Song  of  the  Mystic, 
Gather  the  Sacred  Dust,  and  otlier  poems. 

James  Whitcomb  Riley  (1852 ). — Known  as  the  Hoosier 

poet.     Has  written  much  dialect  poetry. 

Hjalmer  Hjorth  Boyesen  (1848 ). — Born  in  Norway,  but 

came  to  America  in  18G8.  Professor  of  German  in  Cornell 
University  and  afterward  professor  in  Columbia  College.  Wrote 
Gunnar,  lives  of  Goethe  and  Schiller,  and  other  works. 

James  Lane  Allen  (1849 ). — Born  in  Kentucky.     Became 

professor  of  Latin  in  Bethany  College,  W.  Va.  Author  of  Flute 
and  Violin,  The  Kentucky  Cardinal,  Aftermath,  The  Choir  Invisible, 

Alice  French  ("Octave  Thanet")  (1850 ).— Educated  at 

Abbott  Academy.  Wrote  Otto,  the  Knight ;  Stories  of  a  Western 
Town,  Book  of  Two  Lovers,  Expiation. 

Paul  Leicester  Ford  (18G5-1902).— Chiefly  self-educated. 
Wrote  Honorable  Peter  Sterling,  The  True  George  Washington, 
The  Writings  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  The  Story  of  an  Untold  Love, 
etc. 

Thomas  Allibone  Janvier  (1849 ). — Was  engaged  in  jour- 
nalism in  Philadelphia  for  some  years.  Wrote  Color  Studies, 
The  Mexican  Guide,  hi  Old  New  York,  In  the  Saragassa  Sea. 

Margaret  E.  Sangster  (18?>8 ). — Became  a  contributor  to 

many  periodicals.  \Vrote  With  my  Neighbors,  Hours  with  Girls, 
Art  of  Home-making,  Mary  Stanhope  and  her  Friends,  Poems 
of  the  Household,  Easter  Bells,  Home  Fairies  and  Heart  Flowers. 

Mary  Eleanor  Wilkins  (1862 ). — A  story  writer  living  at 

Randolph,  Mass.  Has  written  many  popular  stories.  Author 
of  Pembroke  ;  and  .Iroine,  a  Poor  Young  Man. 

Edith  Matilda  Thomas  (18G4 ). — A  writer  of  both  prose 

and  poetry.  Wrote  Li  Sunshine  Land^t,  Lyrics  and  Sonnets,  Fair 
Shadow  Lands,  etc. 

Francis  James  Child  (1825-1896). — A  professor  in  Harvard 
University  from  1851  to  1896.  Editor  of  the  American  edition 
of  The  Briti.oh  Poets.  Wrote  The  Debate  between  the  Body  and 
the  Soul,  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads. 

Mary  Johnson  (1870 ). — A  young  writer  of  groat  promise. 

Wrote  Prisoner  of  Hope;  also  To  Have  and  to  Hold,  a  colonial 
novel  of  great  merit. 


INDEX. 


More— The  ft  llowlng  table  Indicates  the  abbreviations  used  in  the  ludes 


Biog., 

Biography. 

Or., 

Oratory. 

Cril., 

Criticism. 

Pha., 

Philology. 

Dram., 

Drama. 

Philos., 

Philosophy. 

Ed., 

Ertueation. 

Pol. 

Politics. 

Ess., 

E.ssays. 

Pol.  Econ., 

Political  Economy. 

Pic., 

Fiction. 

Poet., 

Poetry. 

HUL, 

History. 

Ed., 

Religion. 

Hum., 

Humorous. 

Sei., 

Science. 

Jour., 

Journalism. 

TlicoL, 

Theology. 

Meta., 

Metaphysics. 

Trav., 

Travels. 

Mia., 

Miscellaneous. 

ENGLISH  AUTHORS. 


PAGE 

Addison,  Joseph,  Ess.  and  Poet. ...    88 

Alnsworth,  William  B..,Fic 289 

Akcnside,  Mark,  Poet 105 

Alfurd,  Henry,  Poet 294 

Alison,  Sir  A.,  Hist,  and  Pol 287 

Arnold,  Matthew,  Hist,  and  Pol. . .  292 

Arnold,  Thomas,  Hist 287 

Ascham,  Koger,  Ed 59 

Austin,  Jane,  Fie 211 

Aytou  n,  William  E.,  Poet  and  Biog.  286 

Bacon,  Francis,  PMlos.  and  Ess. . .    47 

Baillie,  Joanna,  Dram 210 

Baker,  Samuel  W.,  7\av 295 

Barbour,  John,  Pod 25 

Barrow,  Isaac,  Scl.  and  Pel 75 

Baxter,  Richard,  TUeol 75 

Beattie,  James,  A*f<.  and  Ess 169 

Beaumont,  Fr.,  Pact,  and  Dram...     58 

Bentham,  Jeremy,  Pol 213 

Berkeley,  Ueorge,  Poet,  and  Tlieol.  106 
Blacksioue,  Sir  William,  Imxo 171 


PAGE 

Boswell,  James,  Biog 171 

Braddon,  Mary  E.,  Pic. 291 

Brewster,  Sir  D.,  Set 292 

Bronte,  Charlotte,  Pic 289 

Brougham,  Henry,  Mis 213 

Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  Theol 75 

Browning,  Elizabeth  B.,  Poet.,  Ess.  223 
Browning,  Robert,  Poet,  and  Dram.  285 

Buchanan,  Robert,  Poet 286 

Buckle,  H.  T.,  PhUos.  and  Pol 293 

Bunyan,  John,  Rel 87 

Burke,  Edmund,  Pol.  aud  Ess 170 

Burney,  Frances  (.Countess  d'Ar- 

blay),  Mc.  and  Biog.  211 

Bums,  Robert,  Poet 156 

Burton,  Richard  Francis,  JVav. ..  295 

Burton,  Robert,  Ess 59 

Butler,  Samuel,  Poet 87 

Byron,  Lord,  Poet 172 

Campbell,  Thos.,  Poet,  and  Biog. .  200 
Carlyle,  Thomaa,  Ess.  and  Bing...  287 
471 


472 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Chalmers,  Thomas,  Theol 213 

Chatterton,  Thomas,  Poel 169 

Chaucer,  Geofl'rey,  Poe< 19 

Clarke,  Adam,  Tlieol 213 

Cobhett,  William, Pol.  and  Es$. ...  211 

Coleridge,  S.  T.,  Poet,  and  Mis 189 

Collins,  William,  Poet 10^ 

Collins,  Wm.  Wilkie,i% 200 

Cowley,  Abraham,  Poet T4 

(  owper,  William,  Poet 147 

Crabbe,  George,  Poet 209 

Craik,  Maria  D.  M.,  i^ 290 

Daniel,  Samuel,  Poel.  and  Hist. . .  59 

Darwin,  Charles,  Sd 293 

Davy,  Sir  H.,  Sri 213 

De  Foe,  Daniel,  7%.  and  Poc< 106 

DeQuincey,  Thomas,  Pic.  and  Ess.  212 

Diekens,  Charles, /'jc 243 

Disraeli,  Benjamin,  Pic.  and  Pol..  2K9 

Disraeli,  Isaac,  Biog.  and  J-Yc 212 

Dixon,  W.  H.,  HL^t 2.\S 

Dobell,  Sydney,  Poet 2S6 

Doddridge,  Philip,  Tlieol 170 

Drayton,  Michael,  Poet,  and  Fie.  59 

Dryden,  John,  Poet,  and  Dram 76 

Edgeworth,  JIaria,  i'lic 211 

El  iot,  George,  Pic 262 

Ellis,  M rs.  Sarah,  Fie 291 

Evelyn,  John,  Pod 87 

Faraday,  Michael,  .Sd 292 

Fielding,  Henry,  Fie 17i) 

Fletcher,  John,  Pod.  and  Drain...     5M 

Ford,  John,  Poet 59 

Foreter,  John,  Jli.tt 2W 

Freeman,  E.  A.,  Ilisl.  and  Pol 2^8 

Fronde,  James  A.,  J  fist,  and  Fie.  278 
filler,  Thomas,  Hint,  and  Ret 74 

3alt,  John,  Fir.  and  ])rnm 211 

aay,  John,  Poet 105 

Gelkie,  Archibald,  SH 293 

Gibbon,  Edward,  Hist 169 

Gladstone,  Wllliain  E..  Mis 292 

Soldsmlth,  Oliver.  Poet,  and  Fie..  128 

Qower,  John,  Poet 2.5 

Gray,  Thomas,  Poet 107 

(irote,  George,  Jlist "...  .  'Zsl 


PAGB 

Green,  J.  R.,  Hist 288 

Griffia,  Gerald, /Yc 291 

Hall,  Rohert.Thcol 213 

Hallam,  n.,Hist 210 

Mumilton,  Sir  William,  Meta 292 

Hazlitt,  William,  C'i-i<.  and  PoZ....  211 

Heber,  Reginald,  Poet 209 

Heliis,  Sir  Arthur,  Mis 291 

Ilemans,  Mrs.  F.,  Pod 209 

Herbert,  George,  Poet ,59 

Herrick,  Robert,  Porf 74 

Herschel,  Sir  John,  S« 218 

Hobbes,  Thomas,  Pol 74 

Hogg,  James,  Poet 209 

Hood,  Thomas,  Poet 210 

Hooker,  Richard,  Pel 59 

llowitt,  William,  i'Yc.  and  Mis....  291 

Hughes,  Thomas,  Fie.  and  Mis 2»9 

Hume,  David,  Hist 169 

Hunt,  Leigh,  Poet,  and  Mis 212 

Huxley,  Thomas  II.,  Sei 293 

Hyde,  Edward, //iii.  and  Biog 75 

INGELOW,  Jean,  Poet,  and  Fie 229 

JAME.S,  G.  r.  R.,  Fie.  and  Hist 288 

Jameson,  .Vnna,  ylr(  and  Mis 291 

Jerrold,  Douglas,  Dram,  and  Fie..  286 
Johnson,  Sam. ,P/>.,Poc/., and  £to(;.  118 

Jonsoii,  Ren, /^ra?u 58 

"Junius,"  Poi 171 

Keats,  John,  Poet 210 

Kingsley,  Charles,  Fie 289 

Knight,  Charles,  J/m< 288 

Kuowles,  James  Sheridau, /^i-nm.  210 

Lamb,  Charles,  Fss.  and  Mis 212 

Dandor,  Walter  S.,  J'oet.  aad  Mis..  212 

Langland,  Robert,  Poet 25 

Layard,  A.  11.,  lYav 296 

Lever,  Charles  J .,  Fie 289 

Lewes,  (icfirge  II.,  Biog.  and-  Hist.  287 

Lingard,  John, /f!Vt< 210 

Living.stone,  Dr.  I).,  Tra%> 295 

Locke,  John,  Kiis.  and  Pol 87 

Lockhart.  J.  O., /itoff 212 

Lock yer,  J.  Norman,  .Sri; 298 

Lover,  Samuel,  /Yt 238 


INDEX. 


473 


PAOK 

Lyell,  Blr  Charles,  Sci.  and  Trav. .  292 
Lytton,  Sir  E.  Bulwer,  Fie.,  Dram.  288 

Macaulay,  T.  B.,  WM.  and  Es8. . .  23.5  ^ 

Macdonald,  George,  Fie 290 

Macphcrson,  James,  Poet 169 

Mackay,  Charles,  Poet,  aud  Mis...  285 
Mackintosh,  Sir  Jas.,  Pol.  and  Hist.  212 

Mandeville,  Sir  John,  Trav 25 

Marlowe,  Christoplier,  Dram 58 

Marrj-at,  Frederick, /Tic 211 

Martiueau,  Harriet,  Fie.  and  Mis.  291 

Massey,  Geralil,  Poet 285 

Massinger,  Philip,  Dram 69 

Meredith,  Owen,  Poet 285 

Mill,  J.  S.,  Pol.  and  Pol.  Ecoii 292 

Miller,  Hugh,  .Set -. 293 

Milman,  H.  H.,  Hist,  and  Poet....  287 

Milton,  John,  Poet,  and  Pol 60 

Mitford,  Mary  R.,  Fie.  and  Poet...  211 

Montagu,  Lady  Mary  VV.,  Mis 106 

Montgomery,  James,  Port 209 

Moore,  Thomas,  Poet,  and  i% 1% 

More,  Hannah,  l>ram.  and  Fie 170 

Morris,  William,  Poet 285 

Mflller,  Max,  i/i.9 292 

Murchison,  R.  I.,  Sci 292 

Newman,  John  H.,  The^ 2W 

Ncwiou,  Sir  Isaac,  Sci 106 

Norton,  Mrs.  C.  E.  S..  Poet,  and  Mi$.  285 

Oliphant,  Mrs.,  Fie 290 

Ople,  Mrs.  Amelia,  Fie 211 

Palev,  William,  Theot.  and  Meta.  170 

I'algrave,  Sir  F.,  Hist 287 

I'epys,  Samuel,  Mis 75 

ro'.lok,  Robert,  Port 210 

Poj)e,  Alexander,  Poet 98 

Prior,  Matthew,  Poet 105 

Procter,  Adelaide  A  ,  Poet 285 

Procter,  Bryan  W.  ("  Barry  Corn- 
wall "),  Poet.  210 
Proctor,  Richard  X.,Sci 293 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  Hist.,  Poet. . .  59 

Ramsay,  Allan,  Poet 105 

Reade,  Charles,  Fie 290 

Reid,  rajjt.  Mayne,  Fis 290 


PASS 

Reid ,  Thomas,  Meia 17C 

Richardson,  Samuel,  Pw 169 

Robertson,  P.  W.,  Pel 294 

Robertson,  Wm.,  Hist,  and  Biog. .  169 

Rogers,  Samuel,  Poet 209 

Ruskin,  John,  Art 291 

Russell,  W.  H.,  Trav.  and  Mis 288 

Sackvili.e,  Thomas,  Poet 59 

Sala,  George  A.,  Fie.  and  7>-or 291 

Scott,  Sir  Walter, /Yc.  and  Poet....  181 
Shakespeare,  Wm.,  Dram,  and  Poet.    34 

Shelley,  Percy  B.,  Poet 209 

Sheridan,  R.  B.,  Drain 171 

Sidney,  Algernon,  Pol 75 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  Fie.  and  Poet..  59 

Smith ,  .Adam,  Pol.  Econ 171 

Smith,  Sidney,  Pol.  and  Ess 212 

Smollett,  T.  B.,  Pic 170 

Somerville.  Mary,  Set 292 

Soulhey ,  Uobort,  Poet 212 

Southwell,  Robert,  Poet 59 

Spencer,  Herbert,  Sci 293 

Spenser,  Edmund,  Poet 28 

Spurgeon,  C.  H.,  Mis 294 

Stanley,  Arthur  P.  (Dean),  Theol..  294 

Steele,  Richard,  Ess 106 

Sterne,  Laurence,  Pic 170 

Stewart,  Dugald,  .Meta 213 

Strickland,  Agues,  iJwgf.  and  /Yc. .  288 

Suckling,  Sir  John,  Poet 74 

Swinburne,  A.  C,  Poet 288 

Swift,  Jonathan,  i'^.  and  Poet 106 

Talfoi'RD,  T.  N.,  Dram 286 

Taylor,  Henry, />ram.  and  Poet 286 

Taylor,  Isaac,  Pel 294 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  Pel 74 

Taylor,  Tom,  Dram,  and  Fie 287 

Temple,  Sir  Wm.,  7//.-.«.  and  Mis. .  S7 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  Poet ^16 

Thackeray,  W.  M.,  Fie.  and  Mis. .  252 

Thirlwall,  Connop,  Hist 287 

Thomson,  James,  Poet 105 

Tooke,  Home,  PhU S13 

Trench,  R.  C.  rDean\  Theol.   PhU.  294 

Trollope,  Anthony,  Pfc 290 

Trollope,  France^s,  Fie 211 

Tupper,  M.  F.,Poet 286 

Tynd'dl,  John.  5ci 296 


474 


INDEX. 


PAQK 

Waller,  Edmund,  Poet 74 

VValpole,  Horace,  Mis 171 

Walton,  I zaak,  .Vi>.  and  Biofit 74 

Warren,  Samuel.  Fie 289 

Wesley,  John,  Rel 170 

Wiintcly,  Itkhard,  ThaA 29-1 

Wliewell,  William,  Sci 292 

VS  liile,  H.  K.,  I'uet 20'J 


PASB 

Wilson,  John  ("  Christopher 

North  "),  Mis.  and  Pod.  212 

Wiseman,  N.,  Tlieol.  and  Mis TSU 

Wordsworth,  William,  Poet Ki 

Wycliffe,  John,  iSei 26 

Yates,  E.  H.,  Fie 290 

Young,  Edward,  i'orf 106 


AMERICAN    AUTHORS. 


A  BBOTT,  Jacob,  Biog 452 

Abbott,  J.  S.  C.^  ifioy.  and  i-Yc..  ..  453 

Adams,  John,  Pol 314 

Adams,  John  Q.,  Pol 459 

Adams, W.T. ("OH verOptic"),/^'c.  455 

Apassiz,  Louis  J.  R.,  Sci i^S 

Alcott,  h.U.,  Fie 454 

Aldrich.  T.  B.,  Pod.  and  /Yc 451 

Alexander,  Archibald,  Tfieol 316 

Allibonc,  S.  A.,  Biog 452 

AlLston,  Wash.,  JEss.and  Poet 315 

Arthur,  T.  S.,  /Vc 4.54 

Audubon,  J.  J.,  .Sci 315 

Bailey,  Jas.  M.  {"  Danhury  News 

Man"),  Ilum.  462 

Bancroft,  George,  Hisl 344 

Barnes,  Albert,  Pei 4f>0 

Bcecher,  H.  W.,  Pel.  and  Fie 461 

Beth une,  George  W.,  Rd.  and  Pofi.  460 
Bokcr, George  II.,  Dram,  and  Poet.  451 

Brackenridge,  II.  II.,  Tluol 314 

Bradstreet,  Anne,  Poet 301 

Brf)wnson,Oretites  A.,  i'Yc,  Thcol..  458 

Brooks,  Mrs.  Maria, /'wrt 314 

Brown,  Charles  B.,  IHc 315 

Browne,  C.  F.  ("  Anomtis  Ward  "> 

Hum.  462 

Bryant,  W.  C,  Poet 8)7 

Burdeltc,  Robert  J.  ("  RiirUngton 

Unwkeye  Man  "),  Hum.  -162 
BuBbncIl,  Ilorace,  Rd 4<  0 

CALH">uy,  J.  C,  Pol 4''9 

Carey,  H.  C,  Pol.  Econ 4.57 

<;ary,  Alice  Puei 451 


Cary ,  Phcebe,  Poet 451 

Cass,  Lewis,  Pol 459 

Channiug,  William  E.,  Theol 866 

Chdpin,  E.  H.,  Rd.  and  Mis 461 

Cheever,  George  B.,  Rd 461 

c;hild,  L.  Maria,  t^e.  and  Biog....  453 

Clioate,  Rufus,  Pol.  and  Ess 459 

Clay,  Henry,  Po/ 469 

Clemens,  S.  L.  ("  Mark  Twain  "), 

Huvi.  462 

Clemmer,  Mary,  Mis 455 

Cooke,  Jolm  V..,  Fie 454 

Cooper,  J.  Fenimorc,  /Yc 897 

Cozzens,  Fred.  S.,  Fie.  and  Mis....  456 

Curtis,  George  W.,  Ess.  and  Jour. .  414 

Dana,  R.H. ,/'oc/.  and /% 449 

Dana,  R.  H.,  Jr.,  Fie 454 

Dodge,   Mary  A.  ("Gall    namil- 

t<jn  "),  Ess.  457 

Drake,  J.  Rodman,  Porf 302 

Dniper,  J.  W.,  .Set 4.59 

Duyckinck,  K.  A.,  Biiu/.  and  llisl.  4.')6 

Dwight,  Timothy,  Tlitol 814 

Edwarus,  Jonathan,  Mrta 298 

Eggleston,  Ed  ward.  Fie 456 

El  lot.  Job  n,  Rd 301 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  Exs.  and  Poet...  870 

Everett,  Alex.  11.,  A.v.  and  Poet..  467 

Everett,  i:<lward,  Em.  and  Or 448 

FiELDH,  .lames  T.,  Poet. and  Mis...  45« 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  Poland  Sci.  314 

Freneau,  Philip,  Poet 818 

OavakkC  Charles  E.  A.,  Hist 463 


INDEX. 


475 


PAGE 

Goodrich,  8.  G.  ("  Petei  Parley  "), 

Mis.  45.5 

Greeley.  Horace,  Jour 458 

GriBwold,  R.  \V.,  Biog 457 

Haxe.  E.  E.,  Pic 454 

HR-j«-ck,  Fitz-Greeiie,  Poet 307 

Hamilton,  Alexander,  Po/ 815 

Harte,  Francis  Bret,  P)€t.  and  Pie.  452 

Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  Pic 406 

Hay,  John,  Pod.  and  Mi« 452 

Hayne,  P.  U..,  Poet 451 

HifTsrinson.T.  W.,  ifw 456 

llildreth,  Richard,  Hist 453 

H()d«e,  Charles,  llieol 460 

Hoflmau,  C.  Fenao.Porf 450 

Holland,  Dr.  J.  G.,  Poet.,  Jout.,  and 

Mis.  427 
Holmes,  Dr.  O.  W.,  Poet,  and  Pic.  S.'iS 

Hopkinson,  Francis,  Poet 313 

Hopkinson,  Joseph,  Poet .^13 

Howells,  W.  D.,  Mis.  and  Pic 4.V5 

Hughes,  John,  Ttieol 460 

Hunt,  Helen  ("  H.  II,"),  Mis 459 

IKVING,  Wash.,  i/w.,>Y<;., and  Biog.  385 

iK-HK^,  Henry,  Jr.,  Pic 455 

Jellerson,  Thomas,  Pal.  and  Hisl... ZXi 
Judson,  Emily  ("Fanny  Forester"), 

Pic.  and  Biog.  453 

R ENNEDY,  J.  P.,  Pic 453 

Kent,  James,  Imw  &nA  Pol 315 

Key,  Francis  S.,  Puct 313 

King,  Thomas  Starr,  Mi» 461 

Krauth,  Charles  P.,  Theol 462 

Landon,  M.   D.  ("Eli  Perkins"), 

Hum.  462 

Lercora,  Lucy,  Poet,  and  Efi» 452 

belaud,  C.  O.  ("  Hans  Breitmann  "), 

Uum.  462 

liCwls   Tayler,  £»» 458 

Lippincott,  Sara  J .  ("  Grace  Green- 
wood "),  Mis.  454 
Locke,  D.  R.  ("Petroleum  V.  Nas- 

by  "),  Uum.  462 

Longfellow,  H.  W .,  Poet 824 

lossing,  Benson  J.,  //island  Biog.  4.53 
Lowell,  James  R.,  Poet.,  Ess.,  Pic. .  878 


PAOB 

McClintock,  John,  77i«o/ 461 

McCosh,  James,  TTu-ol 461 

Mcllvaine,  Charles,  Theol 460 

Madison,  James,  Pol 314 

Mann,  Horace,  £(2 458 

Marsh,  George  P.,  Phil,  and  Mis. . .  455 

Marshall,  John,  Lflw 315 

Mather,  Cotton.  i?(.; 301 

Mather,  Increase,  Rel 301 

Maury,  M.  F.,.S'ei 458 

Miller,  Joaquin,  Poet 452 

Mitchell,  D.  G.,  Pic.  and  Mis 433 

Mitchel.O.  M.,  Sci 458 

Moore,  C.  C,  Poet 313 

Murris,  George  P.,  Poet,  and  Jour.  450 

Motley,  J.  L.,  IlUt &57 

Moulton,  Louise  C,  Pic 4.54 

Murray,  Liudley,  PhU.  and  Rel —  314 

Newell,    R.    H.    ("Orpheus    C. 

Kerr  "),  Uum.  462 

O.SGOOD,  Frances  8.,  Poet 4.50 

Ossoli,  Margaret  Fuller,  Orit.,  Mis.  4.56 

Parker,  Theodore,  Theol 458 

Parkmau,  Francis,  Trav.  and  Mist.  463 

Parton,  James,  Biog.  and  £.<.<! 453 

Parton,  Sarah  P.  ("  Fanny  Fern  "), 

Pic.  and  Mis.  467 

Paulding,  James  K.,  Pic 315 

Piiyiie,  J.  Howard,  Poet 450 

Percival,  James  G.,  Poet 4)9 

Phelps,  Elizabeth  S.,  Mis 4.57 

Phillips,  Wendell,  Pol 460 

Pierpont,  John,  Poet 449 

Poe,  Edgar  A.,  Poet,  and  Mis 4.50 

Porter,  Noah  H.,  Theol 461 

Prentice,  Geo.  D.,  Poet,  and  Jour. .  450 

Prescott,  W.  H.,  Uist.  and  Ess 351 

Ramsay,  David,  Uist.  and  Biog  ..  314 

Read,  T.  Buchanan,  Poet 451 

Reed,  Henry,  Orit.  and  Hist 456 

R(^e,  E.  P.,  Pic 465 

Rush,  Dr.  Benjamin,  Set.  and  Ess.  814 

Saxb,  John  G.,  Poel 4.50 

Schaff,  Philip,  TTicoi. and  ilMt    ...461 
Sedjjwick,  Mrs.  C.  M.,  t\c 458 


476 


INDEX. 


PAGlt 

Seward.  William  H.,  Fol.&n^  Trav.  459 
ShaW:  Henry  W.  ("Josh  Billings"), 

Hum.  462 

Bhea,  John  G.,Hist.B.nd  Rel 453 

Bhilldbor,  B.  P.  ("  Mrs.  Parting- 
ton "),  Jlum.  4fi2 

Bififourncy,  l.ydia  II.,  Poet 419 

Billiiimu,  Beiijuiiiiu,  Sei 458 

Bimiub,  Will.  G.,  Pud.  J'lc,  And  Mis.  450 

Suuill,  S.  W.  ("01(1  Si"),  Hum 462 

giiiith,  Seba  ("  Major  Jack  Down- 
ing "),  /'"Yc.  and  Mis.  4.54 

Spalding,  Martin  I.,  Thcol 461 

Sparks,  Jared,  liiog.  and  Es» 4.")2 

Bprague,  CUmrles,  Pact 450 

Stedman,  E.  C,  Port 451 

Stephens,  Alexander  H.,  Pol 400 

Stoddard.  R.  H.,  Poet 452 

Btorrs,  Richard  S.,  Rel 10] 

Story,  Joseph,  Imw 315 

Ktowe,  Harriet  B.,  Fie 453 

iu.reot.  Al fred  B..  Poet •. . . .  450 

Buniner,  Charles,  Pol 4Gt) 

Talm AGE,  T.  DeWitt.  Mii> 459 

Taylor,  Baynni,  Pic,  Poet.,  Trav..  422 

tuyiyjT  Betjjamiu  F..  ifu 457 


PASS 

"ierhunc,  Jfary  V.  ("  Marion  Har- 

land  "),  Pic.  454 

Thaxter,  Mrs.  Celia,  Poet,  and  JUis.  451 

Thoreau,  K.T).,  Mis 456 

Ticknor,  George,  Hist,  and  Biog. .  455 

Tilton,  Theodore,  Jo!/r.  and  Poet..  459 

Trowbridge,  J.  T.,  Poet,  and  yic. . .  4.51 

Trunibull,  John,  Poet 313 

Tuekeruian,  H.  T.,  Crit.  and  Fie. .  456 

Warnkr,  Charles  Dudley,  Ess 457 

Waylaiid,  Francis,  Pol.  and  Tfteol.  457 
Webb,  C.  11.  ("John  Paul"),  Hum.  462 

Webster.  Daniel,  Or.  and  Pol 439 

Wei  by,  Mrs.  Amelia  B.,  Poet 451 

Whipple,  E.  P.,  CYil.  and  E!<s 4.56 

White,  R.  Grant,  CYU 456 

Wh itney ,  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.,  Fie 4.54 

Whitney,  W.  D.,  Crit 457 

Whitlier,  John  G.,  Poet 332 

Willis,  N.  P.,  Poet.  a.nA  Mis 418 

Wilson,  Alexander.  Sci 31i 

Wilson,  Mrs.  Augusta  Evans,  Fie.  455 

Wirt,  William,  liiog.  And  Ess 315 

Wiiherspoon,  J(jliii,  Kf.i 314 

W'ood worth,  Pamucl,  Poet 318 

Wuolsev.Theo.  D.,  Lavaod  TAeoJ.  450 


INDEX  TO  APPENDIX. 


PACK 

Alcott,  A.  Bronson 466 

Allen,  James  Laue 470 

Barrie,  J.  M 463 

Bellamy,  Edward 466 

Besant,  Sir  Walter 464 

Boyesen,  H.  H 470 

Brooks,  Phillips  467 

Burnett,  Frances  Hodgson 465 

Burroughs,  John 465 

Cable,  G.  W 465 

Carleton,  Will  469 

Carroll,  Lewis .'.  463 

Child,  Francis  J 470 

Clarke,  James  Freeman  467 

Craddock,  Charles  Egbert 469 

Crawford,  F.  Marion 468 

Dana,  Charles  A 467 

Davis,  Richard  H 465 

Doyle,  Arthur  Conan 463 

English,  Thomas  Dunn 468 

Fa wcett,  Edgar 469 

Field,  Eugene 469 

Fisher,  George  Park 465 

Fiske,  John 465 

Ford,  P.  L 470 

Frederic,  Harold 468 

French,  Alice 470 

Frothingham,  O.  B 467 

Furness,  H.  H 466 

Gilder,  R.  W 466 

Gray,  Asa 467 

Hardy,  Thomas 464 

Harris,  Joel  Chandler 467 

Harrison,  Mrs.  Burton 469 

Hawthorne,  Julian 465 

Hope,  Anthony 464 

Hopkins,  Mark 466 


PAGE 

Howe,  Julia  Ward 468 

Janvier,  T.  A 470 

Johnson,  Mary 470 

Johnson,  Richard  Malcolm 469 

Kipling,  Rudyard 463 

Lang,  Andrew 463 

Lanier,  Sidney 469 

Lathrop,  George  Parsons 467 

Lea,  Henry  C 466 

Mabie,  Hamilton  W 469 

Meredith,  George 464 

Mitchell,  S.  Weir 468 

Nieoll,  Wm.  Robertson 463 

Norton,  Charles  E 466 

Page,  T.  Nelson 465 

Payn,  James 464 

Peck,  Harry  Thurston 468 

Riley,  James  Whitcomb 470 

Rives,  Amelie 468 

Ryan,  Father 469 

Sangster,  Margaret  E 470 

Smith,  F.  Hopkinson 467 

Spofford,  Harriet  P 468 

Stetson,  Charlotte  P 468 

Stevenson,  R.  Louis 464 

Stockton,  F.  R 466 

Story,  W.  W 467 

Thomas,  Edith  M 470 

Thompson,  Maurice 469 

Tyler,  Moses  Coit 465 

Wallace,  Lew 469 

Watson,  Rev.  John 464 

Wells,  H.  G 465 

White,  Andrew  D 466 

Wilkins,  Mary  E 470 

Winchell,  Alexander 467 

Zangwill,  Israel 463 


477 


K 


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